


Another year of Mystrade

by CrushedRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bit of everything, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Happy, M/M, Sad, Some of them, Song Lyrics, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 365
Words: 150,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8849356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose
Summary: As per request,  another 365 days of small ficlets about Greg,  with appearances by Mycroft, Sherlock and every one else.





	1. Unopened

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [All gone - All gone now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479990) by [Black_Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Dawn/pseuds/Black_Dawn), [CrushedRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose)



> Hi everybody!  
> I know it's not the first of January, but hey, it's not like it matters right?  
> I hope you all enjoy with me another year of lovely stories filled with sadness, fluff and all in between.  
> So far I've written possible plot lines for the first six months, and the overwhelming theme so far is happy fluffness.

** 1\. Unopened **

Greg eyed the unopened box with weariness.   The Yard has procedures in place in the event of dangerous and terrorist attacks.   It goes through a well-equipped screening process and screening

The fact that the package made it thus far is a good sign.   With narrowed eyes he stepped closer, placing his take-away coffee cup on the table next to his computer.

It was wrapped in black paper with a silver ribbon, whereas a single white card was tied to.  He didn't really want to untie the ribbon, it’s not every day you see such a perfect folded bow so taking out his scissors he cut the ribbon on the underside.

His eyes caught the card and still attached to the ribbon he lifted it so he could read it.

_"My dearest.  MH."_

Smiling he put the card and ribbon down.

"That doesn't tell me much." He mused loudly.   Removing the paper he noticed it was a small box and when he opened the lid he frowned.

It was a photo album. An A5 size.

"Huh?" Greg took it out and opened it there was place for a photo on top with a space underneath filled with lines.  This allowed you to write something about the picture Greg wasn’t sure what the idea was since he never really made albums, all his photos were stacked in a box in his wardrobe.

Sitting down he opened the cover.

Mycroft's handwriting was in elegant swirls across the page.

_"My dearest Gregory._

_Sentimentality and emotions have never been the strongest attributes of my personality, until I met you and you personified that to me. For that I'm glad as the best part of me is you.   With this album my dream is to capture the moments in which you reveal the good in me, the smiles, the laughter, and the moments where time stood still.  Always yours, Mycroft."_

Greg swallowed the lump in his throat, for someone who claims to be emotionally stunted, this gesture is wonderful.   With smiling lips and shining eyes he quickly emailed him a photo on his phone and printed it out.   He folded the corners so it fitted on the first page.  He scribbled underneath and then he took a photo and sends it to Mycroft.

 

When Mycroft opened the message he too felt a lump as it was the album, on the first page a photo of them, that Greg took in selfie mood as they lied in bed. He wrote underneath.

**"Timeless memories of Greg and the love of his life, Mycroft. Evidence that there is a thing as true love. XXX."**


	2. Cd

2\. Cd

 

Greg sat in the black car, his fingers tapping on his knee as they car drove through the London streets. Mycroft sat opposite him, checking his email.

 

Greg looked out the window and noticed they were halfway to his flat.  He decided on risking the chance before he turned to Mycroft.

 

"Does the silence in the car ever get to you?" Frowning Mycroft locked his phone before putting it away.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

Greg leaned a bit forward. "The silence, I get that you spend most of the time either on your phone but the times you don’t, don’t you listen to the radio or a home mix tape?" Mycroft nearly looked dumbfounded at Greg.

 

"A home mix what?" Greg couldn’t keep the smile of his face.

 

"Tape. Or these days a cd with your favourite songs, something to listen to.  Hey you can call it a Holmes’s homes list."

 

"Like a personalised play list?"

 

"Yeah, exactly."

 

"And I would listen to it in the car?" Mycroft asked, still trying to understand.

 

"Yeah, on the car radio or iPod."

 

"Do you have something like that?"  Mycroft asked.  Greg nodded enthusiastically.

 

"Yeah, it’s all named too, 'shite day' contains all my rock, the angry ones, 'nice day' is my normal one with the Clash def leopard and Genesis.  Then there's the 'not today' list that is more of the mellow rock like Alphaville, Guns and Roses and so on, and then the 'bad day' is more of my ballads and sad songs, the depressing ones."  The more Greg spoke the more flabbergasted Mycroft looked. He had no idea what Greg was on about.

 

Greg made a sweeping motion over his head.

 

"That one went right over you didn't it?"  Mycroft swallowed.

 

"It would appear that you had me at a disadvantage."

 

"Next time we take my car, I’ll show you, I’ll even make you our own mixtape for our discussions."

 

Mycroft gave a quick and brief smile, unsure how to respond. Greg sat back in the chair, happy as he softly started singing.   Mycroft didn't interrupt as he sat back as well, smiling at Greg's gleefulness.

 

 

 

 


	3. No more staples

** 3\. No more staples **

When stepped in at Greg's division floor at the Yard he stood still for several moments, taking in the scene in front of him.  Everyone was busy, either setting up a table in the corner with snacks and drinks, or a few in the one corner was blowing up balloons.   A deep laughter shook him out of his frozen state. It was his Gregory’s laugh.

'Not yours' his mind corrected.  Closing his eyes he walked to the detective's office which was open.   As he stepped in his eyes widen.  Greg was standing with his back to the door, a hundred little papers strings on the table and he was stapling it in circles and the together so it made a chain.  He shirt sleeves we're rolled up and his arm muscles flexed as he worked. Mycroft's mind was threatening to short-circuit.  Sally was in there with him, overseeing his progress.

She saw him first.

"Mr. Holmes?" Greg spun around

"Mycroft, hey, what brings you here?" Greg greeted him with a wide smile.   Sally saw how Mycroft's eyes widen and the small blush on Greg's cheeks.

"I needed to drop off some paperwork involving Sherlock."

"Oh right, yeah well have a seat and I'll get this out of the way." He responded as he put the stapler down and tried to bundle the chain together.

"Here let me, there's no more staples and I'll go check to see if this is long enough." Sally replied as she made her way out with the chain, leaving them all by themselves.

"Are you planning a party?"  Mycroft tried to sound conversational but couldn’t hide the amusement.

"Detective Hopkins is about to become a dad and he joked saying he wants a baby shower and so he's getting one." Greg answered as he sat down, noticing the still full box of staples.  Discreetly he tried to move it out of sight but knew it was futile.

"But he joked?" Mycroft tried to understand. Greg smirked and shrugged.

"Jokes on him, besides this lot will do anything for an office party."

"Do they know whether it's a boy or girl?"

"They want to be surprised, so don't tell him when you see him okay?" Greg said and then laughs at seeing the expression on Mycroft.

"Excuse me? How would I know?"

"Because you're a Holmes, smart and know everything."

Mycroft smile became shy, he is indeed all those things, and know Greg know, but it's the first time in a while that someone meant it with a good heart and without ridicule.  He looked at Greg, the perfect poker face.

"I won't say a word."

"Tell me though so I'll know what awesome toy to get."

"It will be our secret."

"Nice."

Mycroft couldn’t help but to agree with that statement.

 


	4. Buy milk

   **4\. Buy milk**

The day was long and the only thing Mycroft wanted to do was go home, relax in a long warm bath and snuggle up with Greg.

Every time he tried to remember how his life was before Greg entered his life he would get the proverbial shiver down his back as if someone told a ghost story around a camp fire.  Not that he has told ghost stories around a camp fire, but he imagined that is how it would feel like. Besides if he ever needs to tell ghost stories he has enough data to make sure his story is the scariest of them all.

His phone blinked with an incoming text.

"Hey Love, I used the last milk in our dessert, can you buy milk on your way home?"

Mycroft blinked.  Gregory, his wonderful, beautiful and amazing man wants him to do what? Buy milk?  He is the British Government; he has people to do that for him.    And here comes person one, Anthea.

"Anthea, Gregory sent me a text, asking to buy milk, can you perhaps...."

"No." Mycroft tilted his head as he stared at her, did she just interrupted him? Saying no?"  Looking at him she nodded.

"You heard me, Greg wants his partner, his other half, the man, not the politician to stop at a store and buy milk. We can go the small Tesco's across the street before we leave."

"But I never buy milk." Mycroft retorted, forgetting that he was a grown man.  Anthea rolled her eyes.

"Then it's a good time to start, you can also buy him some biscuits or chocolates, he likes the chocolate eggs. They have a special on at the moment.  It would make you look thoughtful."

"I'm always thoughtful." Mycroft mumbled.

"Of course sir, shall I accompany you?"

"Why, don’t think I can buy milk?"

"To protect you from the rush hour of goldfish that might try to make small talk."

"I don't make small talk."

"Exactly."

Taking a deep breath he opened his phone.

_"Will do, on my way home now. MH."_

 

 


	5. Leftovers

5\. Leftovers

 

The sun greeted the two sleeping men through glimpses in the curtain, they on the other hand paid no attention, deciding to snuggle deeper in each other’s arms and continue sleeping.  

 

After the sun became hotter and the blankets stuffy they could stay no longer in bed.

"Come on Gregory, we should get up." Mycroft mumbled between kisses. Greg smiled as he pulled Greg closer. 

"Why? The bed is so comfy, let's stay in here the whole day."

"That wasn't the arrangement we had for this long weekend Gregory." Mycroft replied as he tried to shuffle out the bed. 

"Besides I need to use the bathroom and you are hungry."

Greg narrowed his eyes as he looked at Mycroft.

"So are you, you’re just trying to get me to make breakfast." Mycroft feigned surprise.

"Oh that's a kind offer, with that redesspresso tea you've ordered online?"

"Oh away with you." Greg joked as he made his out of the bed towards the kitchen. Mycroft smiled and stared at his butt until he disappeared down the hallway.  

 

While Greg made breakfast Mycroft quickly took a shower and got ready for the day. He decided on spoiling Greg and get away for the long weekend. It's a small cottage in the country, but it was private and perfect for them. The smells from the kitchen were divine as he hurried to the kitchen, Greg was right he was hungry and although he could cook, he preferred Greg's homemade food, it always taste wonderful regardless of what he make.

Greg was standing with his back to the door, the table was set, the tea in the hot and ready, there was toast and Greg was making something on the plate.

"It smells wonderful." He greeted as he sat down the table. Greg smiled and turned around with the pan, he made some dish with fried onions and tomatoes and meat.

"What is that?"

"Oh I used the leftovers from last night and fried it with some onions and tomatoes, thought it will go nice with the toast and we can top it off with some grated cheese?"

"Sounds marvellous and can't wait to try it." Mycroft said as Greg dished up for them. Mycroft was right, the food was tasty and food, and it went well with the tea. After breakfast Mycroft cleaned up while Greg went to shower. By the time he was done, Mycroft had some tea in a flask and a few fruit in a basket for them.

"A picnic?" Greg asked as he stepped closer.

"Thought we should take a walk and this is for a snack along the way."

"Brilliant, what would I do without you?"

"I rather not consider it, as it would apply to me too and I can't deal with that." Mycroft retorted and just opened his arms as Greg made a beeline to hug him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dor those who don't know, Redesspresso is a product here in South Africa, it is the same concept as coffee espresso, but it is made with Rooibos tea. It is amazing, especially if you're a tea lover, and you can sweeten it with honey and milk, or your choice. I like mine with a teaspoon of coconut oil, some honey and a little froth of milk. Very healthy and very goid for you. 
> 
> I'm still struggling to load pictures, otherwise I could've post one.


	6. My charger

     **6\. My charger**

Greg looked at the dice in his hand.   He was blushing furiously as it.  Still standing there in the corner of his office he would shake the dice and see the words it spelled.  Thoughts to a certain government official and the words made his face even redder. 

He was in fact so in concentration that he didn't notice the figure at the door until the tip of an umbrella tapped a bit too loudly on the floor. 

"Wha....?"

"Hello Gregory, something interesting?" Mycroft asked, his eyes taking in the flushed state of his partner and the sparkle in his eye.

"Uum, I got these today, they handed it out at that new adult shop in Soho, and it was in a small red box with the black ribbon." As he spoke he handed Mycroft the box, on it was the words:  _spice up the game #sexydice_ Mycroft read it and then turned to Mycroft who handed him the dice. It was two card dices, but instead of being numbered from 1 to 6, they had words on, like kiss, suck, thigh, and earlobe and so on.  It was obviously meant to go together as one dice had verbs, the rest body parts.  It could be fun. Seeing the effect it had on Greg, Mycroft smiled and handed Greg the dice with the body parts.

"Gregory, may I suggest a game?"

"A game?" Greg let the confusion shown on his face.

"Yes, but your phone needs to be fully charged, you do have your charger here?"

"My charger?  I have a spare one here that I keep here. Why?"

"You'll see."

 

The first text came that afternoon. 

Mycroft send a picture of the dice, the words 'kiss' was shown to the screen.   He texted

**"? MH"**

Greg smiled and took out his dice, rolling it in the table and took a picture of his dice before sending it back to Mycroft.

The word was 'hands'

_He wrote underneath, every single one of those pale freckled digits My. GL "_

Yes, it was a brilliant game.


	7. Cable

** 7\. Cable **

Mycroft's hands were gripping the wood tight.  His eyes roaming the scene in front of him.  For some reason the DVD doesn't want to connect to the TV,  so Greg suggested that he should bend over the sideboard or around it, Mycroft didn’t mind the view was spectacular. He held on the board to make sure it didn't fall on Greg as he moved. 

The cable was loose but Greg did tighten it, however Mycroft wasn't done staring, call him mischievous if you will.  He didn't care. 

Too make sure Greg didn't realise the truth Mycroft put the sound on mute so it the silence would act as a no connection.  

"Still not working?" Greg's muffled voice asked. 

"No, unfortunately not, it comes and goes; maybe you should try to tighten the cable?" Mycroft suggested; his voice neutral.

"I did, the bloody thing can't tighten anymore, and you sure it's on the right channel?"

"Of course, set on 101, it comes in flashes and then the connection gets lost."

"Damn, I’m not sure what it could be; the cable is secured in the machine right?"

"Yes. It screwed on tightly."

So it went on for a few minutes that neither noticed Sherlock waltzing in with John on his heels.

Sherlock glanced at the scene in front of him and groaned loudly.

"Mycroft!"  He turned to his brother.

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Is Sherlock here?  Maybe he can solve this?" Greg mumbled through the sideboard.

"I think not, as there is nothing to fix." Sherlock exclaimed and Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"Sherlock."

"Interrupting your fun, or view?" He asked as he stepped closer. 

"What?" Greg asked and John started laughing.

"Mate, the TV is fine, however Mycroft is enjoying the view." Sherlock smiled at Mycroft.

"Busted."  Greg crawled out and for a moment all eyes were on his butt, Mycroft seeing their reaction step in Sherlock’s line of sight.  Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked away.  A smile on his lips.

Greg got up and turned Mycroft around.

"You did that so you could stare at my arse?"

Mycroft sighed in defeat.

"It's a nice arse." He replied to Sherlock’s dismay.  Greg started laughing and turned around so he could push out his butt.

"Don't worry Love; this booty’s is all yours." Mycroft blushed as he struggled to speak and Sherlock grabbed John's hand.

"That's disgusting, we’re leaving."

Mycroft lifted his hand to wave him away, his eyes not leaving Greg’s.

"Gregory, I don't think we're going to watch a movie."

Greg smiled seductively.

"We'll just have to find other ways to spend the evening."

"Oh I'm sure we can think of something...”

"Good." As Mycroft pulled Greg close Greg frowned.

"Do you know what they wanted?"

"Gregory...."

"Right, you don’t care right now."

"No, now come here."


	8. All  gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first non fluffy one. Sorry

 8. All gone

 

In hindsight Greg should've seen it coming, the man he has been chasing wasn't going to give up without a fight, and would retaliate. Greg stepped closer to cuff him, when he twisted and stab Greg with the screwdriver hidden in his jacket. It may have been a short screwdriver but the man stabbed him several times before pushing Greg to the floor and ran off. Greg didn't immediately realise what had happened and thought it was just punches until he staggered and touched his side. His shirt and hands were red and he slowly sank down against the wall, his knees buckling. 

 

Trying to steady his breath he called it in, the man who ran off and requested an ambulance. 

 

All he could do now was keep pressure on the wounds and wait for help.

 

He needed to call Mycroft; they’ll have to cancel the reservation they had. They had plans to go to the opening of a new play followed with dinner. It was all gone now. He lifted his phone from his pocket; he doesn't want him to find out from someone else. As the phone rang he got cold feet. He can't tell him, he has a very important meeting that afternoon that has a ripple effect on thousands of innocent lives if something was to happen. He shouldn't even be calling. 

 

'Shite.' He mumbled

 

"Hello Gregory." Greg closed his eyes to keep the tears from falling. 

 

"Hi Love. Sorry to bother you, I just called to wish you all the best for the meeting." Greg congratulated himself on keeping his voice normal. He could hear the ambulance in the distance.

 

"Thank you Gregory, I appreciate it. How's your day going so far?"

 

"Oh you know. At a crime scene as we speak. The sun is a bit hot though." Greg didn’t mention that he was in fact the crime scene.

 

"You should keep hydrated."

 

"Will do."

 

"We are still going tonight?"

 

"Yeah, can’t wait to see you in a tux."

 

"I share the thought." Greg smiled and coughed for a moment, he can already taste the metallic of the blood on his tongue. The ambulance needs to hurry. He can't hold for much longer.

 

"Gregory, are you getting sick?"

 

"No, just swallowed wrong, I’m okay. Listen Love. I love you. So much. You are my everything. My heart and I'm so glad we're together."

 

"Gregory?" Mycroft voice sounded suspicious and Greg felt a tear down his cheek.

 

"It's okay Love. I just wanted you to know."

 

"I love you too Gregory."

 

"See you later okay?"

 

"See you tonight."

 

Greg hang up the phone as a new cough overcame him, the tears run freely down his face. He slid down the wall so he was lying down, and waited as the paramedics rushed over. He was in and out of consciousness as they stabilised him on the stretcher and loaded him in the back of the ambulance. Before he lost consciousness fully he heard the unmistakable sounds of a car stopping and a shout through the air.

 

"Gregory!" Forcing his eyes open he saw the man of his dreams running over and climbing in the ambulance, his hand was grabbed and he managed a ghost of a smile as his eyes shut close.

 

 

 

 


	9. Goals

  **9\. Goals**

The list was taunting him, he was sure of it, but the blank paper denied everything.   Taking a breath he picked up the pen.

A heading, every list needs a title.   Big and bold letters to clearly indicate what's what. 

GOALS

Maybe he should underline it?

Yeah let's underline it.  With a swishing move the word rested on a straight-ish line.

Maybe numbers?

Or bullet points?

Lines?

Arrows?

Numbers it is.

Okay.

1.

2.

3

How many?  Ten? That's reasonable. Anything more and it might be too ambitious, he’s only a copper for starters.

One line or two of 5 numbers on each?

"Am I interrupting?" Greg nearly jumped as Mycroft's spoke from the doorway. 

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Greg pushed the paper aside as Mycroft made his way to the chair and sat down. 

"I was in the neighbourhood."

"Really?"

"No. I just came to see you, oh and bring you this." Mycroft gave a small brown package to Greg and from the smell he knew it was a fresh donut.

"Aah yes. Heaven.  Thanks Love."

"What were you so busy with before I came in?"

"Procrastination."  Greg answered straight away. 

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and Greg handed him the paper.

"Ah. You're goals for the year."

"Hmmm." Greg replied as he started eating the donut.  Mycroft looked at it and picked up Greg's pen.  Waving Greg away before he could protest he started writing. 

Greg just sat back in his chair enjoying his snack as Mycroft wrote, he apparently had no problem thinking about ten things.

When Mycroft had to leave he left the list on Greg's desk, Greg picked it up and laughed.

1\. Stay who you are, I love who you are.

2\. Love Mycroft

3\. Accept Mycroft's weird ‘stalkish’ behaviour.

4\. Forget Sherlock's insults, and know you are good.

There was ten things and it was all for Greg.   Smiling he pin it up against the wall, closest to him, he had no trouble following these.


	10. Exercise

** 10\. Exercise **

Greg have always been reasonably fit,  the chasing,  the running around after Sherlock, and playing football on weekends with some mates, kept him in shape most of the time.  

Then the event was announced. 

The Yard will participate in the annual charity London Run.  There are two categories, 5 mile and 10 mile.  To raise the maximum amount of money they have to participate in the 10 mile one.

The problem was, that out of all the let's say more 'senior' detectives he was the most in shape so the responsibility to lead the young Yarders was strong.  He is to lead by example. 

So, goodbye donuts and crisps and chips for lunch...and breakfast even dinner sometime.

He worked out a schedule to start running but that fell flat when he was too sore and stiff to get up the next morning.

Sherlock noticed the sluggish walk and deduced it in one sentence.  A very long sentence.   Greg will forever be astounded by the way Sherlock can talk without breathing.

Mycroft called him that afternoon and set up a meeting.  He decided to play personal trainer with Greg and his exercise.  After all he can read Greg like a book so no need for formulas and schedules and so on.  Greg can train on the treadmill with Mycroft keeping watch and to train him in the art of long distance running instead of short sprints.

Greg made excellent progress when the rewards from the British Government were so wonderfully incentive orientated. 

 

The day of the marathon Greg was ready.   He put in two months of hard work and was looking good.   His thighs were strong, his stomach flat, and he found it sexy that his sticker with info on front and back looked flat. Mycroft rolled his eyes and kissed him good luck.

"Oh Gregory my dearest, run as if I'm waiting at the finish line."

"You will be right?" Greg asked with a hint of worry.

"Oh yes. But imagine me as waiting only for you with long uninterrupted evening ahead."

Needless to say, Greg broke the record for his age group.  The fact that the Yard raised more than what they hoped for, was just a bonus.


	11. It was different

11\. It was different

 

Change.

People say change is good. That we should embrace it.

Greg first opinion about that is "fuck it." The only thing change has ever brought him was pain and suffering. There was some good but the bad outweighed that a lot more. Something like ten to one. He should ask Mycroft, he would make the sums. No wait.... he can't. That’s the problem. His relationship with Mycroft is over. He can always ask Sherlock. 

"Aah hell no." He declared out loud before drinking the last bit of beer in the can.

Sherlock will extrapolate it like some specimen under a microscope and ruin his mood even further. 

Three weeks ago everything was still good and wonderful, now it was different. Everything is different now.

The problem was that Mycroft didn't understand. Greg was the one to break up, not because of Mycroft’s work, looks, and his financial status not the fact that he was way more smarter and sophisticated than Greg. It was because Greg loved him.

Yes.

Love him.

More than anything in the world.

So why did he break up with him?

Because of a little paper in his bedside table drawer. The results of a test. A medical test.

Those results mean that if he stays with Mycroft, their relationship will be ten times stronger, more emotional and it would break Mycroft when he wasn’t there anymore. So in order to save the man he loves, he needed to walk away. He will live with the guilt; it's not much more of a life to live anyhow. 

Six months maximum, if the paper was right, but then again the paper might be wrong and it could be more or less.

He could already feel the change in him, his body already alerting him to the change taking place inside. 

Bloody hell, his hands is so shaking he can't pick up another can; probably just as well, it might rush to prognosis to sooner. He should get his crying to stop as well. Don't want to go with puffy eyes. Don't want to go period. 

 

 


	12. Time was running out

** 12\. Time is running out **

Mycroft eyes were narrowed in concentration, the files in his head fluttering between the pages to get the answer.  Time is running out and he has no idea what the answer is.   He looked over to Sherlock who was just a flabbergasted as he was.  Well at least he wasn’t alone    John was nearly bend over as he laughed and giggled at Greg's antics.  They decided on a night of trying to get along.  Nearing the end John suggested a game, anything except card games, twister or strategic games.  Crime games were out as well so it left them with Pictionary or charades.  

Charades it was as Sherlock declared “he and Mycroft are excellent in reading people."

Two teams, John and Sherlock, and Greg and Mycroft.  It was Greg's turn and his card said movies, the Grinch who stole Christmas.  Looking at Mycroft he burst out laughing, still he got up and did his part.

Mycroft guessed correctly with movies, children movies and time piece; however he is struggling with the name even though Greg did a magnificent impersonation of the Grinch walking and looking around.  That would explain John's laughter as he already guessed it, but can't say anything until the time is up.   Sherlock was dumbfounded and surprised Greg could move like that for his age, Mycroft was trying very hard to figure out the name of the movie and was frustrated when his memory draws a blank.  That hasn’t happen before and it took him off kilter a bit.

When the time was up, he relinquished the point to John who gave the answer with a punch in the air. Even though Greg and Mycroft lost that round, Greg still high fived John like they had some inside joke. 

 


	13. Looks like a baby

  **13 Looks like a baby**

Mycroft smiled as Anthea told him Greg was here to see him.   They have an arrangement that whenever they can they would share lunch or just pop in to say hi if in the neighbourhood.  They have been so busy lately that it has been a few weeks since they shared lunch.   Pushing his paperwork aside and making a quick call to order lunch for both of them he got up to greet his partner.   It was only when he was near the door that he frowned.  Anthea’s voice was different when she announced that Greg was here.  There was lightness, a smile that never was there before.   Greg must have a surprise for him, and Anthea is intrigued by it. No doubt that she will come in with Greg to see his reaction.  Well that's fine; he will have a poker face.  

He saw the door opened and indeed Anthea was walking in front, he waited till he saw Greg, then froze. 

Greg was happy and smiling and he did have a surprise he was carrying something pink and moving. 

He blinked a couple times, however the image didn't change.   Oblivious Greg walked closer and gave him a quick kiss.

"Hi Love.  How’s your day so far?"

Mycroft didn't answer as he stared at the thing Greg was holding.  It was a person, a very young person.

"Gregory what is that?"

Greg looked down at the baby, caressing the small red cheek with the most beautiful smile Mycroft had ever seen.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like a baby."

"Brilliant deduction Love.  Meet little Annie. Annie this is Mycroft." Greg replied as he lifted her so Mycroft could see. 

"Gregory.  Where did you find her?"

"Crime scene, she was with her dad, who died, looked like murder but it was an accident."

"Why isn't she with the necessary people?"

"Because there's some admin, system error to which department she actually needs to be with so until the child representative show up, she's in my custody.  Isn’t she adorable?" Greg explained and made dooey eyes at her who smiled.   Mycroft had a fleeting moment of jealousy, that she got that smile; it’s usually his, although he can't fault her for being enchanted with the man holding her, he gets enchanted when Greg holds him.

"Do you want me to help?" Mycroft offered as they moved to the small table where they usually have lunch.

"Oh no, it’s fine, it’s only a couple hours,  and besides I really don't mind. I love babies."

"You do?"

"Yeah, hey want to hold her?" Greg asked all smiles. 

"I don't think..." Before he could protest too much he had a small baby in his arms. The last time that happened he was holding Sherlock.  Annie was adorable as she immediately smiled at Mycroft who couldn't help but smiling back.  Greg moved closer all smiling.  From a distance it looked like a family.  Anthea with her quick thinking snapped a picture.   It is only a matter of time before they will be parents to their own little Annie, she was sure of it. 

 


	14. My dairy

** 14\. My diary **

Greg was at Baker Street.   The case was complicated and kept them busy for ours. John had made tea several times and still they were stumped with case. Sherlock was pacing around the floor in his mind palace trying to sort it all out.  Greg and John sat on the sofa, talking softly and just drinking their tea. 

It was some time later when he stopped and spun around. 

"It was the son!" He exclaimed loudly, his eyes wide with focus. Greg looked at him.

"The son?  Who was in Birmingham when the accident happened?"

"Yes, that one unless there was a second son, which there wasn't so it is this one."

"And how did he do it get between London and Birmingham without breaking his solid alibi.?"

"The diary."

"Diary?  Sherlock he is a teenager in varsity, he doesn't have a diary." Greg replied as he stood up, looking even more dumbfounded than he sounds.

"John has one, he writes all the cases in his dairy."

"My diary?  Sherlock it's a blog." John replied, his whole body language screaming 'I'm done'. Greg turned to him and shrugged.  Sherlock oblivious just went on.

"Blog diary,  journal, the principal is all the same.  He wrote a piece a couple months ago on how to be in two places at once. We need to check his bedroom."

Both Greg and John pulled on their jackets and followed Sherlock out the flat, the tea forgotten now that a case was blazing with a second breath. 

Two hours later the son was in custody and the case was done.  Sherlock and John decided to celebrate by having dinner and leaving Greg with all the paperwork.  All in all nothing new. 

Although the paperwork might usually be a bit too much to handle on Friday night, he did comfort himself that he was going home to Mycroft instead of an empty flat. Some things did change. 

 


	15. My bag is packed

** 15\. My bag is packed **

Mycroft eyed the bag as if it was loaded with explosions.  It was standing there in the middle of the room, eyeing him up and down with a secret stash of explosives somewhere.  

"Okay that's it.  Taxi here?" Greg asked as he came down the stairs with his jacket and passport in his hand. 

"Do you really need to go?" Mycroft knew he was very close to sounding whiny but he couldn't help it.  He was the one leaving the country for business, not Greg.  No Greg was the one waiting for him, with a hug and a kiss and with love.  Now he, Mycroft, is the one waiting.  He hates it, Greg is not even gone yet and already he is missing the man.  Greg could see this was hard for him and stepped closer, placing his hands on the Mycroft's cheeks and kiss him.

"Yes. It's only a few days, I’ll be back before you know it."

"You're scheduled to return Friday at 2pm, meaning you'll be back in the house by 6pm maximum, so does that mean you're already back?" Greg chuckled with that logic, Mycroft can be so petulant and Greg finds it adorable. 

"Shall I sing to you, to make you feel better?"

"You can stay." Mycroft mumbled

"You know, this is exactly how I feel when you have to leave."

"Does it get easier?" Mycroft stared at Greg, his eyes full of emotion.  Greg smiled back before he kissed him.

"Sorry Love, not really."

"That doesn't help me."

Greg just sighed and pulled Mycroft into an embrace before he slowly started to sing

_"My bags are packed I'm ready to go._

_I'm standing here outside your door."_

"We're still inside Gregory and are you serenading me?"

"Yes I am, now listen to the chorus."

__

_"So kiss me and smile for me_

_Tell me that you'll wait for me_

_Hold me like you'll never let me go_

_'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane_

_I don't know when I'll be back again_

_Oh babe I hate to go"_

Mycroft didn't reply as he just holds Greg closer until the unmistakable sound of a horn broke the moment.  They slowly let go and giving Mycroft one last kiss he picked up his bags and walked to the door. 

"I'm waiting for you Gregory." Mycroft said his voice a bit rough.  Greg smiled.

"I won't make you wait too long.  Love."

 

When Greg landed he switched on his phone to a blinking light. 

**"The song also said: when I come back I'll wear your wedding ring MH"**

Greg eyes filled up as he replied.

_"It does doesn't it?_

_I will, if you give me one. GL"_


	16. The new guy

**16\. The new guy**

Greg was standing with Molly in the morgue, she was overseeing a young man, tall with short red hair and dark rimmed glasses as he did and autopsy.

Molly turned to him, smiling.

"This is Kerwin, he is doing his practical."

"Good day Detective Inspector. Did you know the practical only starts after a few years of medical school?" Greg raised his eyebrows.

"Um I didn't. Nice to meet you Kerwin."

"You don't know that."

"Know what?"

"Whether it was really nice to meet me, you don't know me, I might turn out to be the biggest arse you've ever met, or I might be too sarcastic. We say nice, because that is what society tells us." Greg was surprised as he looked at Molly who shrugged and turned back to the kid as he removed several organs.

Greg wanted to reply and say he already have met a rude man, a sarcastic man and an arse, a big one, he needn't worry about that. However he shrugged and replied.

"Well whatever you are Kerwin, I'm looking forward to work with you, and I do mean it, not because I was programmed too."

Kerwin looked up, a little surprised and nodded.

"Likewise Inspector. Likewise."

Knowing there was nothing more to say or do, he waved at Molly and left. Outside he texted John.

_"Have you and Sherlock been to the morgue lately?"_

**"No why? JW"**

_"There's a new intern and I think he will get along with Sherlock, tell him to go meet the new guy."_

**"Is he different? JW."**

_"Oh yes."_


	17. Calculated

** 17\. Calculated **

The call came unexpected; Greg was at a crime scene when Anthea called.  The more she spoke the more Greg tried to keep his composure.   His eyes filled with tears and his hand started to shake.   He was aware of someone calling his name but he didn't care.  That is until grabbed the phone out of his hands.

"What!" He tried to grab it back but John stopped him as Sherlock started talking with Anthea.   He responded short with her, his eyes focused on Greg’s.

"All three of us." Sherlock said as he ended the call.  He called Sally over and told her to take over, only giving the essentials.   With that done he grabbed Greg's arm and lead him to the corner of the street.  John was still unaware so Sherlock broke the silence. 

"Mycroft’s been in an accident."

"He was attacked." Greg’s hoarse voice replied. 

"Attacked?" John asked. 

Sherlock nodded.

"He was on a trip to some country and something went wrong, there was a calculated risk, but it was supposed to be friendly, Mycroft was attacked by three men, his security response was quick but not quick enough before there was some damaged done.  Anthea’s is picking us up, taking us to the hospital." They waited in silence, each worried, Greg was near crying and both John and Sherlock would glance at him, trying to keep an eye on him.

The car came quick and the trip was filled with more silence. 

Greg was the first out of the car and in the hospital rushing to Mycroft’s room.  Anthea tried to stop him but he just pushed her away and went in.  He knew she could have successfully stopped him, and didn't, which he appreciated. 

Greg did cry when he saw Mycroft.  The certainly did a number on him. 

Greg sat next to Mycroft’s bed until he woke up, no one even tried to get him to go home or rest.

When Mycroft finally woke up he stared at Greg, who didn't even tried to stop the tears

"Hey Love. " he whispered, his hand tight in Mycroft’s.  

"Gregory" Mycroft replied his free hand reaching to the beard that formed around his face. 

"Yeah, about that, didn’t have a time to shave." Greg apologised. Mycroft shook his head slightly.

"I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm. I must have been out for some time."

"You were.  Please don't ever do something like this to me again."

"I'm sorry." Greg saw Mycroft’s eyes fluttering close.

"Shhh we can talk later, get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Smiling Mycroft close his eyes and did what Greg said, he slept. 

 


	18. Rain

** 18\. Rain **

Greg pulled the blanket tighter around him and Mycroft.  It was getting chilly here in their outside pergola, but the atmosphere is still wonderfully serene.

It was a lovely Sunday afternoon and they decided on having a picnic lunch in their back garden.  After lunch they snuggle up on the daybed. Each had a book, however they decided to forgo reading a bit just to lie in each other's arms and enjoy the moment.

Mycroft was so relaxed that he drifted off, Greg smiled and kissed his forehead and pulled him close.

He, himself started to fall asleep but got waked up by the sounds of light rain.   He covered both of them with the blanket and stared at the rain.

He always had a soft spot for the rain, especially in circumstances like this.  That is when he associated the rain with home and peace.

"Gregory?" Greg looked down at Mycroft whose head was on his chest his arms around his waist, hugging him close. 

"Thought you were sleeping?" Greg whispered.

"I was, I woke up with the sound of rain."

"It's beautiful."

"Indeed.  Are you okay here outside?"

"I'm good.  Why?  Do you want to go in?"

"No. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, with you."

"Under a pergola, comfortable on a day bed, with light rain falling, sounds like a good romantic Mills and Boon cover."

"Oh I prefer a more realistic setting, however the picture you paint while certainly make my day."

"Good."

They stayed in silence for a while when Mycroft spoke up again.

"Tell me a story?"

"A story?"

"Anything, the rain compliments your voice well, it's a sound I want to hear more."

Greg smiled at that and started talking.  Instead of a story he talked about their live together, their dreams, the plans on being together always and it was wonderful.  


	19. Free delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve,   
> Hope wherever you are that you are exactly where you want to be, doing what you want. I'll see you all in the new year!   
> Much love.

** 19\. Free delivery **

Greg was walking down the hallway carrying the biggest bouquet of flowers he could buy, and carry.  Turns out flowers can be quite heavy if bought in big bundles.  It was a variety of red, velvet red and dark red to nearly black roses. It was extraordinary, which is exactly what he wanted, extraordinary for an extraordinary man.

He was smiling broadly as Anthea stood up when she saw him. 

"Inspector."

"Anthea, you do have permission to call me by my name you know?"

"I know." She replied as she walked over to Mycroft’s office.

"You arranged it all?" Greg asked as he walked over to her, the look she gave him said it all."

"Yeah sorry don't know what I was thinking, of course you did."

"Good boy, Greg."  She added as an afterthought before knocking on the door. Greg heard Mycroft answer and lifted the flowers so it covered his face.  Anthea opened the door.

"Delivery sir."

"Delivery?  I didn't order anything."

"It has your name on it, it's all secure though."

"Send it in. Thank you."  Anthea opened the door wider so Greg could walk in.

"Oh my." Mycroft exclaimed as he saw the roses.

"Are you sure that's for me?" He asked, not realising its Greg as only the legs was visible and the flowers took him by surprise.

"Yes sir.” Greg answered in his best country accent.

Mycroft stopped and looked at the legs more closely. 

"Gregory?"

"Aaah you got me." Greg said as he lowered the flowers to look at Mycroft.  His face bright and smiling.  Mycroft couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, keep his face from smiling. .

"What is this?" He indicated to the flowers.  Greg feigned shock.

"You don't know what flowers are? Oh my soul, probably think this is nature in a vase."

"Gregory."

"Yeah yeah, take it, it's getting heavy." Mycroft took hold of the flowers and placed it on the corner of his table.  His eyes kept staring at the shades of red. It was one of the most beautiful bouquets he had ever seen.

Greg took Mycroft's hand. 

"I ordered it, but then I realised where you work and how difficult it would be to get here so I decided on free delivery."

"You or the roses?"

"Oh me, all the way.  The roses just carried me in."

"I must thank them."

"You might, but I might get jealous, so maybe you should show me your appreciation."

"Splendid."

 


	20. Rules

** 20\. Rules **

The paper so far remained blank, except for a line down the middle with the title Rules and two subheadings with the names, Mycroft and Greg (ory). Mycroft added the (ory) part. Greg retaliated and made two half-moons on the 'y' so it looked like a heart with tail.

"That's childish." Mycroft stated.

"We can add the parenting rules after the children are born." Greg retorted and would you look at that.... Mycroft was speechless, his mouth gaping like a fish as he stared at Greg.  Greg just looked smug. 

He picked up the pen and wrote

_1\. Always catch Mycroft off guard._

Reading upside down Mycroft rolled his eyes and grabbed the pen.

_1\. Never underestimate Gregory._

"Nice." Greg commented.  Taking back the pen he wrote.

_2\. Never go to bed angry._

Mycroft added.

_2\. Communicate, regardless of how uncomfortable it is._

Greg gave Mycroft a sincere smile that Mycroft mirrored.  Together they sat there for close to an hour discussing the rules and guidelines for them. There were many obstacles in their relationship besides Sherlock.  Their jobs, security risks and so forth all played a part and to make it work they both needed to lay down some ground rules. 

By the time they were done they were sitting next to each other, both holding a side of the pen. The atmosphere was light. They both signed underneath. 

When they were finally in bed together after sealing the document with some wonderful lovemaking Mycroft leaned in Greg’s space.

"Gregory?"

"Hmmm."

"Did you mean it?" Mycroft asked hesitantly.   Greg shifted so he could look at Mycroft.

"Meant what?"

"What you said about children?" Greg smiled.

"Yes. If it’s something you want,  it is something I want, I would like to have a family with you."

Mycroft was emotional as he kissed Greg.  When they parted his eyes were shimmering.

"I'd like that.  With you."

 

 


	21. Hardcover

** 21\. Hardcover **

The first time Greg realised it, he couldn't stop laughing for a solid ten minutes. 

"It's not that funny." Mycroft mumbled as he put the book back on the shelf.

"But it's so you!" Greg exclaimed as he tried to stop laughing. 

"How is that 'so me'?" Mycroft looked truly confused for a moment. 

"Because you do nothing by the half, and for some reason I find it extremely sexy." Greg said as he stepped closer to where Mycroft was holding a new book. He ordered some new books for his library at home and Greg was helping him, which is how he came to the conclusion that Mycroft only buys books in hardcover. Greg didn't,  most of the time he didn't see why he should pay extra for the same words and if you look after your books, a paperback can last just as long as a hardcover. The fact that Mycroft didn't see like that made his heart all gooey and soft and he started laughing.   It was more of the fact that they are so different, yet so similar that they somehow fit together, when all the evidence points to the opposite. 

"You find it sexy that I only buy hardcover books?"

"Yes."

"You have some strange tastes Gregory, the other day you got turned on by how I eat my food."

"You looked so hot, eating that ice cream; I wished I was the spoon." Mycroft tilted his head as he had an idea.  He picked up a book.

"And now?" Mycroft stepped closer holding the book close to his chest as his fingers caressed the cover and tapped between the pages. Greg swallowed.

"Yeah, I want to be a book." Mycroft put the book down and picked up his tumbler glass, his fingers running across the edge of the glass in circles.

"Now I'd like to be a glass." The air was tense and charged with desire as Greg's eyes didn't leave Mycroft's hands.  Taking a sip he put the glass back down and stood in front of Greg, hardly any space between them.

"Do you want to be everything I touch?"

"Yes. And everything you taste." Mycroft put his hands on Greg's face and leaned into his space kissing him.

"And now?" He whispered against his earlobe.

Greg pulled him closer.

"Now I want to be me." He responded as Mycroft locked his lips with his, the books forgotten.

 


	22. The clouds gather

** 22\. The clouds gather **

London was in the midst of a heatwave.   Not rare, but not an everyday occurrence either.   Greg was at a crime scene close to the edge of the city. The body was dumped near a warehouse.   There weren't much shade as they worked.   Running his handkerchief over his face for at least the fifth time he sighed inwardly.  According to the weather the heatwave should break either tonight or early morning.  He can't wait. 

Rain may be wet, but it won't make you smell like an overheating locker room.  Looking around he unbuttoned the top two buttons and rolled up his shirt sleeves. 

Pushing the now near soaking handkerchief in his pocket his phone vibrated with an incoming text.

**"Are you deliberately trying to tempt me while at work? MH."**

Greg snorted as he looked up and around the warehouse until he saw the camera on his right.  He turned to it.

_"You alone watching?  GL."_

**"Yes. MH."**

_"Why? MH"_

Greg responded by unbuttoning two more buttons so his shirt was nearly halfway open, he took the sides and shook it as if cooling him with a fan.

**"Gregory! MH."**

Greg laughed and looked straight at the camera before he winked.

_"Sorry Love couldn’t resist. GL"_

**"The heatwave is almost over, the clouds gather in the distance, with this show you've given me; I hope the rain is enough to cool you down. MH"**

_"Only if you kiss me in the rain.......GL”_

**"You're impossible.  MH."**

_"It’s why you love me.   Oh read this. GL."_

Mycroft never noticed that Greg was writing something in his notebook and saw him held the book towards the camera.  Mycroft zoomed in until he could read the paper. Greg wrote "I love you" on it. 

**"I love you too.  MH."**


	23. Witness

** 23\. Witness **

Mycroft was busy with his paperwork when the text alert came.

_"Love? GL."_

He sighed,  if Greg starts like that he just knows the puppy eye look is being pulled somewhere in London.  And regardless of how far it is, he is powerless to stop it.

**"Gregory. MH "**

Might as well surrender when he is still able.

_"You know how much I love you right? GL"_

'Oh God' he sagged his shoulders and sat back. This is where Greg asked him to bend the system for him, he knew it.   This is bad, he was so involved with Greg and after warning Sherlock not to get involved, he himself had gone and done it. Idiot!

**"Yes. MH"**

_"If I ask a tiny favour, would you be able to help? GL."_

Mycroft felt like crying.  Well might as well get it over and done with, and say goodbye to his relationship....and heart.

**"What do you need me to do?  MH."**

_"Give your advice on a case, Sherlock refuses and I'm babysitting a witness, who is irritating the life out of me, and she keeps smiling and flirting even though I told her....."_

Huh? Mycroft was confused, what on earth is Gregory on about?

_"That I'm in a relationship, with a man mind you, but she is apparently under the impression her smile and cleavage is going to change my mind.   Women!  I tell you. So.."_

Mycroft rolled his eyes; Greg is ranting and not caring about the character limit.   Although the fact that some random women is messing with his man, is boiling his blood.

_"I want no need you please to help me solve the case so I can get rid of her.  I'll give you full access, please just read the file. I'll even write your name in the Consultant's space."_

He read the messages a second time, Gregory doesn’t want him to bend the rules, he is asking for help? That's his big favour?  Why didn’t he ask before, does he think Mycroft won’t care for his job?  Before he knew it he was dialling.

"Lestrade."

"Let me get this straight, you just want me to help you with a case? To solve it and not make it disappear?

"Yes. Please."

"Why didn't you ask me before?"

"I know you're busy with a lot more important stuff than this. I don’t want to waste your time, but I'm desperate."

He could hear it in his voice and more importantly the woman in the the background laughing as she talked to someone.

"Gregory, neither you nor your work will ever be a waste of my time, do you want me to come over, or will you bring it here?"

"I'll have to bring the witness; she’s under protective custody until the case is solved."

"I'll meet you in twenty minutes."

"Thank you Love, so much."

"You're welcome."

Mycroft made it in eighteen minutes and solved the case in thirty minutes and made sure the witness left within an hour.  No one flirts with his Gregory.

 


	24. The gambler

** 24\. The gambler **

Mycroft's parents landed at Heathrow the morning and decided to visit their sons before returning to their home.  Greg walked enjoyed when they were visiting as they loved him and got along great, plus Mummy made both her boys behave and that was a sight to behold. 

Since Mycroft is the one with the big house it was only natural that they visit there and everyone comes over for dinner.  Every one being Sherlock and John as Greg already lives there. 

The food was wonderful and the desert delectable after a hard day of working.   The conversation flowed mostly smooth but that is because of Greg and John. 

"I tell you, it is one hell of a workout." Mummy said.

"Strenuous on your legs, especially the calves." Their dad added.  Greg chuckled.

"I can guess, it always looks so easy on telly."

"The telly can be so deceiving Greg dear."

"Yeah I know, is the music really so full of life and emotion live as it is on the radio?" Greg wanted to know, fully invested in the conversation.  Mycroft and Sherlock just looked at each other, Country music and the cowboy life is not something they are interested in.  Greg and John were, apparently, as they asked a lot of questions. 

"Oh yes dear, there was this young lad and he did a version of "the gambler" and it had me in tears."

"Really, that’s my ultimate country song!" Greg exclaimed and then to everyone’s surprise he and mummy started singing together.

_"You've got to know when to hold 'em_

_Know when to fold 'em_

_Know when to walk away_

_And know when to run_

_You never count your money_

_When you're sittin' at the table_

_There'll be time enough for countin'_

_When the dealin's done"_

John added his voice around the third line and their dad the fourth.   The boys stared at the four of them, singing off key, but still having the time of their lives.  The ended with a burst of laughter and a promise of karaoke. 

Mycroft knew in that moment that Greg and John were the Aces in their lives who brought them together into a family, a winning hand.


	25. XXX

** 25\. XXX **

Greg was busy, he had a possible serial killer on his hands, Sherlock is being a prat, which is nothing new, however Greg didn't had to time do to his mental ritual of preparing for Sherlock, so he was irritated and frustrated. 

John was doing a shift at the clinic so Greg couldn’t even count on him to keep Sherlock in line.  

Mind you that line is so zigzag all over the place it was hard to say exactly what goes where. 

The root of the problem was that he was missing Mycroft.  Who hasn’t been home in two days as he was dealing with some political problem.  To think he voted for the party, and yet they are incapable of doing their jobs.  He is so never voting again, unless Mycroft comes out of the shadows and run for Minister himself. 

He should let Mycroft know he was missed. 

Taking out his phone he contemplated what to say.  Smiling he started typing.

_"XXX."_

He didn't hear anything from Mycroft for the rest of the morning or even late afternoon.  

After work he just decided it's time to go home and be alone until Mycroft either comes home or spent another night at the office. 

Either way, Greg had a plate of food for Mycroft set out and in the microwave, ready to be heated when he comes home, if he comes home. 

He showered and smiled as he got an idea, on the big mirror he made the same sign he texted Mycroft 'XXX' it will be here when Mycroft showers and he will see that. 

Greg was long asleep when he felt the bed dipped and a weight climbing in behind him, spooning close and burying his face close to Greg.  Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand and placed it over his heart as he fell asleep, there's so much he wanted to say but he could hear Mycroft was already half asleep.  Inhaling deeply as he got heavier behind him. The conversation could wait till tomorrow.   Closing his eyes he slept. 

Mycroft was still sleeping when Greg had to get up, and he wished he could speak to him, but when he saw Mycroft climbed in bed still dressed, halfway but still, he kissed his cheek, wrote XXX again on a paper and left it on his pillow. 

It was late morning when he received a text

**"Why do I have 3X's on my phone, bathroom mirror and pillow? MH."**

_"3 kisses, one for morning, one for afternoon, one for evening.   To let you know I miss you, I love you, and I will always love you.   See you tonight?  GL."_

**"Yes. I'll cook. MH"**

**"XXX. MH."**

**"Always.  MH."**

****


	26. The tree is still up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday evening I'm alone and read to many Sherlock theories and idead, and now I'm depressed so I'm cheering myself up by posting a little happy Mystrade. 
> 
> If you are interested my url on tumblr is ACrushedRoseStillWins, and after all the reading I had a bad brain moment, of what if Mycroft dies and Greg witness it, or catches if he is shot or something. Not nice!  
> Anyway. Enjoy.

** 26\. The tree is still up **

Greg realised it on a Saturday morning when he and Mycroft had a rare weekend off, the first since the year started.  They stayed in bed until hunger made them get up and seek food in the kitchen.   Together they lazily made breakfast and enjoyed while chatting and catching up.  They made plans to be as unproductive as much as possible, with the biggest chore being washing up after making food. 

After breakfast they made their way to the living room to snuggle up and watch telly.  Greg leaned over to tell Mycroft something when he stopped as his eyes looked at something over Mycroft's shoulder. 

"Gregory?"

"The tree is still up." Greg mumbled.   Mycroft frowned and then turned his head to the corner.  The Christmas tree is indeed still up, the baubles shining in the light casting little rainbows on the floor and furniture.   The star was askew but still up. 

"Indeed it is." Mycroft responded with a bored tone.

"Shouldn't the house staff had taking it down by now?" Greg inquired as he turned back to Mycroft.

"Normally yes, but if I remember we said we'll do it as it is our Christmas tradition."

"Oh, that's a silly idea, whose was it?"  Mycroft smiled broadly.

"Yours." 

"I was afraid you're going to say that."  They both looked at the tree as if it was invading their personal space. 

"So...?" Greg mumbled.

"We should. ....." Mycroft tried.

"Yeah, probably." Greg replied

"It would mean getting up." Mycroft supplied.

"And being productive." Greg added.

"Yes it would." Mycroft agreed.   They turned to each other and back at the tree.

"You know I like the reflective light it shines around." Mycroft commented.

"Yeah and how the star makes you smile."

"Maybe we should..."

"Leave it a little longer..."

"Yeah."

"After all it is our off day."

"And that doesn't happen often."

"Exactly."

Smiling they leaned back in the sofa, cuddled up and watch crap telly, the tree forgotten.

 


	27. Binoculars

** 27\. Binoculars **

Greg was bored, in fact he was beyond bored, and he could actually in this moment understand Sherlock when he is in one of his bored stages.  At this point he hasn't reach the 'shoot the walls' stage although he could see the attraction.  'Ooh, that's not good' he quickly shook his head to shake the idea away. 

"Are you seeing anything yet Gregory?" Mycroft’s voice came up from the front,  a few yards ahead of him.

"No.  Still looking though.  You?" Greg asked as he lifted his binoculars to search the tree tops..

He and Mycroft had decided to try out several hobbies and one of them was bird watching.  Yes. Flying feathery animals in trees. Why he will never know.

He suggested something like who can watch the most Doctor Who episodes in one sitting, or who has the best recovering time after sex, Mycroft said no.  Greg frowned, that was actually strange considering Mycroft is a Holmes and recover in record time because he just tells his mind to.

Alas, here they are, in the park, with a book-Greg has one- since Mycroft memorised it. Bastard.

So far the only interesting thing he has seen was how well Mycroft’s jeans fitted around his arse. 

With a wicked smile he lifted his binoculars and pointed it too the object of his desire.  Mycroft.  More accurately, his arse.

Oh what a beautiful sight. 

He was so busy admiring the view that he didn't notice that Mycroft had stopped and was looking over his shoulder 

"Gregory!"

"Huh?" Greg looked up, his face betraying the guilt of being caught out.

"Are you staring at my butt, with the binoculars?"

"Uum maybe."

"May I ask why?" Mycroft asked as he turned around and walked towards Greg, who smiled wickedly.

"Because that is more interesting than any bird in the sky."

 


	28. On a barstool

** 28\. On a barstool **

Most life changing events, or decisions, happen in the kitchen.  After all, that is where most people get together to talk or discuss something.   Mycroft was at the moment sitting on a barstool, next to Greg in a pub, having a drink.  His jacket was next to Greg's, his shirt sleeves rolled up and he was having a beer.

If Anthea sees him now, she would think he either lost his mind - bound to happen - or his trying to manipulate Gregory to get something - which he was. The problem though that it wasn't for political gain, to rise to power, or to expand his influence, no, it was much worse, much.  He wanted to surrender.  To surrender under Gregory’s spell.

He didn't realise it earlier the day, he always had a sense of emotion to Greg, but it wasn’t until he sat on a barstool that it hit home. 

They've been dancing around one another for a long time now, and when he got the text from Greg that morning he knew his life is about to change. 

Greg asked him to give them a chance, a fair chance, if he thought it was a good idea, and he had to meet Greg at the pub.  He knew Greg chose it so he could drown his sorrows if Mycroft didn't agree.  

But he did.

He walked in, and in a moment of bravery he didn't feel, took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and ordered ' what he's having ' turns out what he's having was a beer. Greg gave him the most breathtakingly smile and then grabbed his hand under the counter.   Mycroft squeezed back as he smiled and took a sip oh his beer.

 

 

 


	29. Dead plants

** 29\. Dead plants **

Greg stood in front of the shelf, two cd’s in his hand.  One was a classical compilation, the other a greatest solid gold hits.

“Not one of these, come guys, I’m trying here.”  Unbeknownst to him, Mycroft stood in the doorway, his arms folded and leaning against the doorway, trying to keep from laughing.

“I do exactly what My does, so why don’t you want to grow?”

The rows of plants ignored him; one dropped a dead leave in answer.

“Is it the suit?  Should I stand her in front of you, wearing a three piece, with an umbrella and go, oh please grow wonderful green leaves?”

Silence.

Mycroft had to bite down on his hand to keep from laughing.

“No wait, it’s the intimidating glare he gives, right?” To test it out, Greg stepped forward so he was leaning over one pot.

“I command you to grow.”

Nothing.

“What does he have that makes you grow so beautiful that I don’t, mind you, I can understand it, since I also grow when he talks to me.”

“Are you telling them lewd and luscious stuff Gregory?”  Mycroft ask and to his surprised Greg blushed a vivid shade of red. 

“Hey love, I’m trying to water the plants, but they don’t want to grow, with you they live, with me, they’re dead plants.  I just don’t have the green fingers My.”  Mycroft pulled Greg close into a passionate kiss, you know, forget about the plants, the important thing is to remember that I also grow when you talk to me.”

“Who’s now the one with dirty thoughts?”  Greg replied, his eyes shining mischievously.

“It’s what you do to me.”

“I can deal with that.”

 


	30. Wooden

 30. Wooden

 

Greg looked at the evidence in front of him, a smile on his face. It is a good case. He is going to call Sherlock. Mycroft once told him Sherlock’s favourite book as a child used to be Treasure Island, and he knows this will get him to help on the case in record time.

 

“I have a case for you. GL”

 

“Don’t care. I’m doing an experiment. SH”

 

“You’ll like it. GL”

 

“Doubt it. SH”

 

“The victim was dressed as a pirate. GL.”

 

“Fascinating, Sex crime gone wrong. SH”

 

“There’s a treasure map, authentic and of London, with the Jubilee line crossed and a wooden chest somewhere along the Thames. GL”

 

“Be there in 10. SH”

 

Greg had everything ready when Sherlock arrived and he set his phone to record, Mycroft taught him how to set it up so he doesn’t need to hold it. He wants to record Sherlock’s face when he has a change to go on a real Treasure Hunt. 

 

Sherlock didn’t disappoint and when his eyes lit up and sparkled, his smile became childlike and his attention was grabbed for a Pirate’s adventure, Greg was taken back by how genuine Sherlock can still be. He saved it and what was even more surprising was Mycroft’s face when he saw his little brother happy.

 

 

 


	31. One extra

** 31\. One extra **

Mycroft was so used to plan ahead, everything from his work, to his private life.  He even had Anthea’s birthday surprised planned out, for the next two years.  So it was with great surprise when it was halfway through the month and he ran out of groceries.

He stood for a solid five minutes in front of the fridge, perplexed.  Then like the proverbial, hit by lighting, and his eyes widen and closed again.  He shook his head as smile broke through on his face. 

The mystery was solved.

He used to plan for him, now there is one extra.  Gregory.

His sweet and loving Gregory who moved in, who will cook for them in the evenings, make breakfast for him, so he doesn’t suffer while at work.  Gregory who personally decided to make sure Mycroft get his three meals in a day, which helps him to keep to his training schedule in the exercise room. Gregory who made his life complete.

Instead of one, now it was two.

Still smiling he lifted his phone and dialled.

“Ah yes, I need to change my grocery for the next month, please buy double, as well as teacakes and a six-pack beer.  Also you can start by delivering it tomorrow.  That is all. Thank you.”

When Greg came home that evening there was a wonderful smell in the house, with soft music playing.

“Love?”

“In here.”

Greg followed the voice and stopped in the doorway, Mycroft had made dinner, some juicy steaks with salad and garlic bread.  Two candles were lit up and the music created a wonderful atmosphere.

“What’s this?”

“To say thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For being my one extra, my one everything.” Greg instinctively knew what Mycroft meant and as response he just pulled him close into a tight embrace.

“Same here Love.”

 

 


	32. The comment

** 1\. The comment. **

Mycroft was already in bed reading something on the laptop that he someone balanced on his knees, Greg himself was never able to do that, it would always slid off.  On Mycroft it was a perfect fit.   He would occasionally roll his eyes or snorted at something he read.  Greg finished his night ritual and sat on the bed.

"What is it that is so funny?"

"I'm reading John's blog."

"You're what?" Greg asked, not because he didn't hear, but he needed to make sure he heard right.

"Reading John's blog, he is quite obvious in his feeling towards my brother, it’s actually a bit pathetic."

"Oi! There is nothing pathetic about it.  It is in fact pathetic that John is still trying to deny it." Greg replied as he started moving up the bed, where Mycroft was already lifting his arm to accommodate Greg at his side.

"Listen to this: once again Sherlock removed all doubt about the alibis of those claiming to be innocent throughout his meticulous deduction skills, his astute talent for observing and his incredible reasoning skills to bring the true perpetrator out in the open, that way ensuring that justice was swift and executed to the full extent of the law." 

"Wow, why not declare his undying love right there and then?" Greg asked.

"You are very impatient with their relationship to evolve." Mycroft stated as he browse through the comments.

"A little yeah,  but it's only because I know how much they need each other and how good they are for one another,  look at us, took us long enough and can imagine us not being together?"

"I try not to." Mycroft replied as he started typing with his one hand, since his other was holding Greg close.  Greg watched as his fingers danced over the keys, very happy those fingers belong to Mycroft. 

"Are you leaving a comment?"

"Yes. The comment. "

"Anonymously?"

"Oh yes."

"Sherlock will find out."

"No he won't.  He will be too preoccupied with the comment to think about me."

Greg looked at the words appearing on screen and his mouth twitched in response.   Let no one say Mycroft doesn’t have a sense of humour.


	33. Who are you?

  **2.  Who are you?**

Mycroft can't remember the last time he was in such a rush to get to the hospital.  Greg was injured on duty, at court nonetheless.  The one place he was supposed to be safe, surrounded by security and cops, yet that's where he got run over. 

A gang member tried to escape and his buddies was going to pick him up with a getaway car and then took off. All good and well but they didn't plan it so well.

Greg ran after him and somehow managed to grab onto him, before he could get into the car, and as the car tried to get away without the guy they tried to save, another police car slammed into that car.  The two cars slammed into Greg and the man, as result they were thrown backwards on the pavement.  Fortunately the man was in front of Greg and received the brunt of the impact, he was killed instantly and Greg seriously injured.  

By the time Mycroft arrived at the hospital Greg was out of surgery and in the recovery room.   They asked him to wait in Greg’s assigned room, which made him feel alone. 

An hour later Greg was wheeled in, his entire right leg in a cast and suspended in the air.  He was unconscious and an IV was slowly replacing the fluids. 

Greg eyes fluttered open another hour later, his hand flexing about open and closed until Mycroft slipped his hand in.

"My...." he croaked out, his eyes focusing on Mycroft and his smile broadening.

Mycroft stood up so he leaned over Greg, using his free hand to hold a small cup with some water for Greg. 

"You gave me such a fright Gregory."

"So-r-y."

They are interrupted by a nurse stepping in the room, her eyes focused on Mycroft. 

"I'm sorry who are you?  And who gave you permission to stay with the patient." Mycroft stood up straight.

"A patient, not the, and I'm Mycroft Holmes and if you read your patient's file you'll see that I have permission to stay as long as I'd like.  Do you understand?" She just nodded and ran out again.   Greg gave a small chocked laughter.

"You-re inc-rid-ble."

"Thank you my dearest, you should try to get some sleep."

"You'll stay?"

"As long as I can."

With a last smile he closed his eyes and slept.


	34. Diatribe

** 3\. Diatribe **

Greg was still reeling when he went home; Sherlock was being an exceptional prat that day and had most of Greg's team either homicidal or suicidal.   He made a new rookie cry, Sally screaming as she wanted to hit him and Greg? We'll Greg was the lucky winner to have a personal diatribe to split him open like a squashed banana being pushed through a cheese grater.

Greg stood still, to in shock, to retaliate or to walk away.  Every mistake, every bad choice and every buried feeling he had was ripped open as Band-Aid being ripped off a wound.

As he got home, he went straight to the bedroom to take a shower however as he nearly ripped off his jacket he was boiling with anger.  He needed to vent some frustration out or he'll never be able to calm down.  Greg looked around the room and started to undress and redress in his leathers, boots and leather jacket. 

He needed to get out. 

His phone alerted him to a text.  Grabbing his phone he read the message. It was from Mycroft.  He was too angry to reply, so he didn't.  The last thing he needed was to be around another Holmes. Even one that for some reason wants to be in a relationship with him.  

Sliding the phone in his breast pocket he picked up his helmet and made his way to the back yard, where his bike was. His phone vibrated again, but he ignored it. 

He pushed his bike out the street and got on.  His phone rang instead of vibrated, but he didn't care.  Pulling his helmet on he climbed on top of the bike and switched it on. The sound of the engine roaring to life instantly calmed him. It also drowned out the sound of his phone ringing.  He turned the bike towards his right and didn't see the black car turning on to his street on his left.  The car stopped, with squealing tyres and Mycroft jumped out. 

"Gregory!" He yelled as Greg pushed down the throttle, the noise drowning out Mycroft’s call.

"Gregory!" He yelled again but it was to no avail, Greg sped off down the streets leaving a billowing cloud of smoke.  

Mycroft took out his phone and while dialling he called out to Anthea.

"Keep tabs on him, make sure he doesn't get into an accident, and arrange for a roadblock, I don't care, get him back in one piece."

"Sherlock!"  Mycroft yelled into the phone only to speak to his voice mail, he waited till the beep.

"If Gregory dies, or get hurt tonight, I will become the arch enemy you make me out to be." Ending the call he walked towards Greg’s house. 

"I'll wait here, bring him home." He instructed with Anthea just nodding and already busy making plans.

 


	35. Dear diary

** 4\. Dear diary **

Greg brought the diary at Tesco's, it was on a sale since it was already halfway through the year.  He can honestly say this is the first diary he bought in his entire life for the sole purpose of using it for personal use.  Mycroft writes in a journal, not every day but he has on more than one occasion seen him writing stuff in it. He has no idea what, considering he is Mycroft Holmes with a photographic memory, with built-in Photoshop, enhancer and special effects.  That is what he thinks anyway, so the idea that he writes things down was a bit strange to see. Even more so when Mycroft told Greg it's all personal stuff.  Greg made a joke and asked why it wasn’t in the treasury secret safe, which made Mycroft laughed so loud,  Greg still remembers the sound and it warms his heart every time. 

So he decided on getting a diary and try it out, have a trial period so to speak. 

That night when they were both in bed and Mycroft put on his glasses to write, Greg did the same. 

Mycroft stopped and stared.

"Gregory?"

"Hmm" Greg replied still looking down in his book, his pen in his hand. 

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, I've decided to give this diary business a try."

"To write in a diary?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Cause it looks like something that I might like."

"Oh okay." Mycroft replied as he turned back to his journal and wrote, every now and then he would glance at Greg who was frowning, then biting down on the pen, and then he would doodle on the sides, draw cartoons and everything except words.  Mycroft closed his book and put it on the bedside table.

He leaned over to Greg and started to distract him by kissing his neck and running his hand across his leg.

"Do you have any idea how irresistible I find you in those glasses and the way your tongue is wrapping around the pen?" Greg looked up and closed the book with a bang pushing it off the bed and straddled Mycroft. 

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes."

 

The next morning Greg got called out and by the time Mycroft got up, he was alone.  As he dressed he saw Greg's diary, open on the first page with words. It was open on the dresser so Mycroft knew he did it so he could read it. He picked it up.

_"Dear diary_

_Last night I had some unbelievable good sex with Mycroft, the best thing that happened all day. He found me irresistible with my glasses, pen in mouth and you open on my lap.  I think I should buy more pens to chew on, and things to write.  One day and you've already proven your worth, can't wait to see what I'll write next, this might just become my adult version diary ;) ;)"_

 


	36. An old photograph

  **5\. An old photograph**

Mycroft and Greg were in the living room, an open box on the coffee table. Mummy sent over some of Mycroft’s old books and stuff he had at university and Greg thought it be a good idea if they placed the books with the others one the shelf. 

"The catcher in the rye, 1984, you had a certain taste there My." Greg said as he picked up two books to give to Mycroft.

"I found it a great method to prepare for my career in politics, an eye opener for what could happen if you’re not careful." Mycroft replied as he placed the books in the shelf in his specific way. Greg laughed as he looked through the box.

"Why doesn't that surprise....oh hello, what is this?" Mycroft turned to Greg who was removing something out of the box, his face betraying the glee he felt. It was a photo.

"Gregory?"

"Is this you?" Greg turned the photo so Mycroft could see.  Mycroft's eyes widen as he realised what it was. He was young, in his first year, wearing glasses and was sitting at a table with his study material; Sherlock was sitting next to him, his face dirty a dog between them and their faces happy.  He stepped towards Greg who held out the photo. He took the photo and Greg could see he was getting lost in a memory. 

"It was my first Christmas since I left; Sherlock was spending most of his time either with the dog or experimenting.   He showed an interest in one of my subjects so I told him about it, one of the last times we got along."

"I'm sorry My." Greg softly whispered as he looked at the two boys.  Sherlock was still a child and innocent and Mycroft looked like a real nerd, still learning his place in the world.  Mycroft smiled and looked at Greg. 

"Thank you.   I can't believe my mom sent this."

"It's a great picture.   You were handsome even back then."

"Gregory, it’s an old photograph, and I would hardly call myself handsome."

"Well I do. I also call myself very lucky to have you in my life.  I love you more and more each day."

Mycroft’s pulled Greg close and when he let Greg go he handed him the photo.

"I want you to have it."

"What?  Me?"

"You like is so much, so I would like you to have it." Greg took the picture with shaking fingers. Promising himself he would take care of it. 

When Mycroft came home the next day, the photo was framed and hanging in their living room with the other photos Greg had been hanging of them and their families.   Mycroft would look at the photo every time he walk past and remember that who he was may not define him, but that he and Sherlock can be happy again.

 

 


	37. Never say...

** 6\. Never say... **

Greg was too preoccupied with the body in front of him to realise what day it was, he got called out early to the crime scene and so far had spent most of the morning there. 

Sometime later when he got back to his office he was still thinking about the case instead of the significance of the day. 

It was just after lunch when Sherlock and John came in that Greg thought of something else besides the case.  Sherlock came for his usual request of a case whereas Greg would give him the latest cold case or let him in on a current case, this time Sherlock made the usual comment about his personal life, which happens to involve his brother.  It had become considerable less than previously however today he said something that made Greg's day come to a halt.

"Nine months you've stuck it with Mycroft, if either of you was a woman I'd expect a happy delivery, but since that is not possible I am still surprised you survived this long." Greg didn’t even had a reply to that,  because by the time it registered what Sherlock had said, he was already half way of the Yard.  Greg on the other hand sat as if he just turned into a statue. 'Has it really been nine months already?' He couldn't believe it; it felt as though they've been dating only a couple weeks, not nine months.  That meant in another three months it would be a one year anniversary.  After his divorce he used to say never again, he was done with relationships and here he was almost a year into a new one.  That just shows you, never say never. 

He sat there for several minutes, his mind going over everything. Slowly he started smiling and looking at the time he quickly packed up.   He made his way over to Mycroft’s office as fast as he could.  Anthea let him in as always, although she was a bit concern with the wide smile that wouldn't leave his face. 

"Gregory? Is everything alright?" Mycroft was surprised as he saw Greg came in. Greg locked the door and then he walked straight over to Mycroft and without answering him, snogged the daylights out of him. Mycroft hang on for dear life as Greg kissed him, but quickly kissed back. They stopped for breath several times but went straight back to kissing.  By the time they stopped for a moment both were extremely dishevelled and had swollen lips.

"What was that about?" Mycroft asked his arms still around Greg.

"Because I am so in love with you, and these past few months have been the best in my entire life.  Happy nine months anniversary Love."

Mycroft eyes widen in realisation

"It's been nine months?"

"Yeah, and I don't know about you, but it’s the best nine months I've ever had."

Mycroft leaned forward to kiss Greg again.

"For me too. Thank you for the best nine months of my life."

 


	38. I found a key

** 7\. I found a key **

Greg got called out in the early hours of the morning to a double homicide.   It was bad. After a hours it was clear to anyone, that this was either going to be one hell of a long and time consuming case, or a cold one.

They were thorough and it still took his team most of the day.   Around lunch time he started to get hungry and just a little bit bored.  Placing his hands in his pockets he started to fumble with his keys as he thought of home and Mycroft and all the things in his happy place.  He was still playing with his keys when something felt off. Frowning he pulled out his keys and had a closer look, that’s when he saw it.  Innocent, inconspicuous, small and silver, shining in the light. 

A key he didn't recognise.  A key he, Greg Lestrade, most certainly didn’t add.  He looked up, uncertain what it could mean, but still having a good idea. 

He needed to make sure so he quickly removed his phone. 

_"I found a key.  GL."_

**"That's interesting, Pandora’s box or an underground secret society lure? MH."**

 

Greg rolled his eyes at the reply; let no one ever say Mycroft isn't sarcastic.

 

_"Hahaha.  It's a small silver key, doubt it would fit in Pandora's Box, nor underground lairs. GL"_

**"That's a shame. MH."**

_"Love is this your home key? GL."_

**"It's my house key, it doesn't become a home until your there.  MH."**

 

Greg blushed as he read it, his heart swelling so big he was in danger of it beating out of his chest and lifting him up, as in the cartoons.   He did that. He did that to Mycroft. 

 

_"So I take it I'm moving in?  GL."_

**"Yes. You are already programmed into the security scanners, and the security is aware of you moving in, with your sometimes erratic schedule. MH."**

_"Impressive. Which room is mine ;) GL."_

**"The main one. MH."**

_"Sharing with you?  Only a one bedroom flat? GL."_

**"Yes, the economy hit us all. Even the British Government had to downside we only have one bathroom now as well. MH."**

_"Oh that's inconvenient, guess we'll just have to share then you know what they say. GL."_

**"And what's that? MH."**

_"Save water bath with a friend..... A very sexy and amazing super close friend. GL."_

**"We'll have to save on heat too, we have no choice but to cuddle and sleep close.  MH."**

_"I love you love.  Thank you for this. GL."_

**"Same. See you tonight? MH"**

_"See you at home.  XXX. GL"_

 


	39. Honesty is...

  **8\. Honesty is...**

It was another dull meeting. Mycroft had to participate in the annual meeting of the language.  Or something like that, in simple terms, he had to give the go ahead on updating the current Oxford dictionary.  In all honesty he wasn’t as up to date with the latest slang and words but he had a secret weapon.   Who wore high heels and a custom made bodily attached smartphone.  She went by the name Anthea. 

She, is up to date and he will just leave all this to her.

"The next word is 'truedo'" Mycroft blinked.  'Truedo'? What the hell is that? 

"Truedo?" He asked the professor in front of him, he could see in the back of his vision Anthea slowly smiling. 'She knew, and didn't feel the need to inform him.'

"Aah yes...." the professor explained.”....it means to be honest, to be straightforward or confession."

"Then why don't people just say be honest?" No one could give him a definite answer  

It went on for another hour or so, whereas Mycroft spent the majority of the time to think just how much of a big bowl of fish he lives in.

He waited till he was back in his car before giving a loud frustrated sigh. Anthea’s laugh was soft but audible.

"You know those words they said in there?"

"Yes. Honestly it's not that bad." She replied and nearly snorted out loud at his expression.

"That's so truedo of you." Here she did snort at his usage of slang.

 Mycroft leaned over. ."You know what?  Honestly are a lot of things, and they all get taken for granted, honesty is having someone like Gregory in your life and knowing it's better.  In fact I should tell them back there that instead of adding new words we should insert Gregory’s face. That would show them."

"Under what description?" Anthea asked as innocently as possible. 

"All of them, admirable, brave, charismatic, dapper, strong, intelligent.   All of them." Mycroft went on and when he looked at Anthea she was looking positively radiant.

"What?"

"Nothing sir, I just never heard you so romantic before."

"I'm not romantic, I was being factual."

"Of course.  My mistake.  So…on to our next meeting?"

"Yes. Thank you."


	40. I killed it

** 9\. I killed it... **

Mycroft was a lot of things, strong, independent and capable to name but a few.  Scared wasn’t on that list so for the sake of the story we are using 'uncomfortable'. Yes he was uncomfortable with the idea that there was a spider in his bathroom.  He would never admit that his first instinct was to scream, or call out in a higher tone than necessary.  His second thought was that his enemy was actually able to reproduce robots and cameras the size of home spiders to spy on him.   That theory was debunked the moment he splattered some water on the offending animal and it crawled into itself before it rushed behind the toilet. 

Well.  As they would say, desperate times and all that....

"Gregory!"

"Yeah love, you okay?" The man walked into the bathroom in a slow pace, his boxers low on his hips and his hair wildly pointed in every direction 

"There's a spider behind the toilet."

"Yeah, one of those small garden ones a normal Daddy long legs?"

"I don't care, I want it gone."

"Love; it's not like I can chase it out because it's uninvited or didn't pay rent."

"Gregory, I want it gone.   How am I supposed to sleep knowing it could get into the bedroom and climb all over us?"

"Shall I arrest him for trespassing?  Breaking and entering or stalking you into your bed, because I'll admit I'd like to stalk you into the bed...."

"Gregory Lestrade.  Get that insect out of our house now!"

"It's actually an arachnid..."

"Greg......"

"Yeah love, I’ll deal with it, go calm down in the bed."

Greg ushered Mycroft out of the bathroom who kept staring at the toilet as if the spider is about to jump out with a Jackie Chan side kick.  Greg waited till he was gone and then his laughed silently as he shook his head.   Picking up the toilet brush he caught the spider and then manoeuvred it out the window.

Ten minutes later he went back into the bedroom where Mycroft sat with folded legs on the bed.

"Did you kill it?"

"I killed it." Greg replied but Mycroft could see through the lie. Opening the covers he waited till Greg was in bed before snuggling close.

"Thank you my dearest.”

"You're welcome."  It was quiet for a while before Greg sighed.

"My?"

"Hmm."

"I pushed it out the window."

"I know. It's okay."

"Good."

 

The next morning when Mycroft finished his morning shower he was busy shaving when he saw familiar eight legs running across the mirror.  He didn't think twice.

"Gregory!"


	41. Mesh

10\. Mesh

Greg was moving in. Mycroft had been planning it for weeks and had secretly been pulling the strings behind the scenes so it all came together in one show. 

Now, a few days have passed and he and Greg would spend a night or so, when they had a chance to pack out his boxes. Together they would look at the contents and find a place for it in their new home. 

Mycroft loved it. He gets to build a complete puzzle of the man he has lost his heart to. Last week they unpacked his sports stuff and he realised just how deep his love for football went. What a surprise to find Greg had an original scrap book of his favourite players when he was in high school? 

Or that he can still fit in his first police uniform, Mycroft developed such a deep love and appreciation for the Met that weekend....

Tonight seemed to be no short on surprises either. 

"Gregory, what on earth is this?" Mycroft asked completely flabbergasted as he held up some kind of shirt. Greg's eyes sparkled.

"Oh wow, you found my mesh shirt, thought I lost it!"

"Your what?"

"Mesh shirt. It was my ticket to ride back in the day." Mycroft kept staring at the man in front of him to process what he said. He is involved with a rebel. He always suspected but now he had evidence. Greg was a punk kid when he was younger; he had a bike, still has it, had rock outfits, played the guitar and at one stage even wore an earring. 

"Is there photos?" He blurted out as Greg holds the shirt up and looked at Mycroft through one of the holes.

"Huh?"

"In your outfit, when you were younger?"

"Yeah... think so...” Greg replied as he put the shirt down and dug through the box.

"AH here, wow I still had brown hair." Mycroft nearly grabbed the photo and stared. Greg watched as his pupils dilate and before he could say something he was pushed against the table with Mycroft practically climbing into him.

"I'm going to take right now in this table. Any objections?"

"None." Greg managed to get out before his mouth was claimed again. 

Turns out Mycroft had a mesh shirt kink, on Greg only that is.


	42. Six pack

  **11\. Six pack**

Mycroft whenever he felt the need to silence the little voice in his head telling him he was too different, too 'other' for a man like Greg  he would go to his secret place. He has a special room in his mind palace for that, but he had a living and real room on his house for that. 

Most likely the first thought would be the bedroom where his clothes was, or bathroom with his products.   You'd even think it was the study where they would share files and workspace, but no. It was his wine cellar. 

Sounds weird, but that is where he truly feels okay with his relationship with Greg. 

Why?

Because that's where Greg keeps his beer. The extra ones.

Next to his rows of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlots, his Pinot Noir, and Chardonnays, his Syrah and Riesling, his Sauvignon Blanc as well as his prized Romanee-conti is a stash of cheap beer. Two six-packs in here with one in the kitchen fridge. 

A true example where - according to Greg - posh meets middle class, white collar meets blue collar the two sides of one coin comes together and Mycroft can't help but smile at that. Here he sees himself and Greg in perfect harmony. 

It was a bit hard in the beginning to make peace with the fact that Greg prefers beer instead of wine, and although he has come a long way that sometimes he would share a glass or two with him, but when it's sports day the beer comes out.

That’s another thing; the sports. ...

"Love?" Mycroft slightly jumped when Greg spoke behind him.  He turned to see Greg looking at him with a small frown.

"Gregory."

"You okay?"

"Never been better." Mycroft replied as he took Greg’s hand.

"And the sight of wine and beer makes you so happy?  Should I be worried?"

"It's not the alcohol, it’s what they represent my dearest."

"You lost me."

"No. I found you as you did me."


	43. You bastard

** 12\. You bastard **

Sherlock and Greg were completely engrossed in a case. It was a big one, running over several years and crime scenes.  Greg's desk was filled with papers and photos.  John had to leave for his shift at the clinic. 

It was just after lunch when he realised they both haven't eaten since breakfast and he was getting hungry.  Experience told him that there was absolutely no way that Sherlock would eat and if he wants something he has to get it himself.  

"Hungry?" He asked as he picked up the phone.  Sherlock made a noise but otherwise ignored him.   Greg shook his head and ordered food.

Half an hour later his food was delivered and Greg placed a container of food in front of Sherlock. He looked up in irritation.  Greg ignored it.

"Eat. Or I take the case away."

"You won't.  You care too much." Sherlock retorted with glee.

"So I care, just eat Sherlock." Greg replied exasperated. 

"It makes me slow." Sherlock tried again but still opened the lid to see Greg ordered him a sweet chilli chicken wrap, light but enough. 

"Which will still make you faster than anyone here.  Now eat." Greg exclaimed as he started eating his own wrap.  Sherlock watched a moment and then ate his.

It was quiet and Sherlock watched Greg.  

"Why do you care so much about me?" He voice was soft and unsure.  Greg nearly choked on his food but luckily stayed calm as he swallowed.   It was rare that Sherlock was so open and Greg wasn't going to ruin it.

"Sherlock...." he started.

"It's not because of Mycroft.  You cared even before you met him."

"Sherlock I can tell you a hundred reasons and all of them would be more sentimental than the next, what can I say there was something in me that told me there's something in you that's worth it."

Sherlock looked more confused.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Oh you can be such a bastard sometimes you know?"

"That's another thing, you call me a bastard, yet there is no malice or cruelty, it actually sounds earnest and, and affectionate." Sherlock said the last word as if it pained him; it caused Greg to chuckle softly.

"Are you talking about the day you cornered me in the garage after two years?"

Sherlock didn't answer but Greg knew he was correct in the assumption.

"I was so shocked to see you after two years and even after everything that had happened I was so glad to see you, so I said 'you bastard ' but at the same time you were the best thing I've seen in a long time." Sherlock was touched and he looked down before back up.

"It was good to see you too. I missed all of this." Greg didn’t reply as he had no idea what to say.  They ate in silence and afterwards Sherlock gave his empty container to Greg to throw away  

"You bastard." Greg replied his voice filled with as much fondness as he could muster.  Sherlock stared at him and slowly smiled. 

Greg leaned over and ruffled Sherlock’s hair, who didn't even try to stop him. 

 


	44. Out of breath

** 13\. Out of breath **

Greg fell down the bed in his arms outstretched and his chest rising in fast successions to accommodate his rapid beating heart.  His smile was so broad it nearly split his face in half. The sweat drops on his forehead glistened in the pale light.  A pale and slender hand shifted from his right and settled on his chest.   Greg turned his face towards the man on the right. 

"That was amazing."

"I agree.  If I knew I'd be rewarded this well for gardening I should've taken it up earlier." Mycroft commented and Greg laughed louder while twisting his side and pulled Mycroft closer.  Mycroft went willingly and placed his head on Greg's chest, his fingers waving through the hairs on Greg's chest.  Greg grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers before he lifted it up to his mouth and kissed the ring finger where a brand new golden band is resting.

"Are you going to kiss my hand the whole day?" Mycroft asked still out of breath.

"Thinking about it." Greg answered.

"You've been kissing my hand ever since you put a ring there and several times during sex."

"Well I'm very happy with the idea of marrying you."

"The 'engagement celebration sex' as you put it, gave away your excitement." Mycroft retorted before he lifted up the bed sheet.

"Apparently you're still interested."

Greg laughed softly and opened his mouth to respond when Mycroft's phone rang. Greg quickly handed him the phone.  Mycroft sighed when he saw the caller id.

"Sherlock." He answered. 

"Why are you out of breath?"

"Do you really want to know why I'm out of breath?" Mycroft asked his face a complete example of calmness and innocence.   Greg wasn't fooled as he crossed his arms behind his head. 

"Well. Gregory and I were celebrating our engagement.  Five minutes earlier and I wouldn't have been able to answer.....hello? Sherlock?" Mycroft turned to Greg.

"There was a gagging noise and then the line went out. Shall I call back?"

Greg burst out laughing. 

"Sex makes you so mellow, come on, give him time to process."

Mycroft shrugged and put the phone down, his eyes focused on the ring. Smiling he held it out to Greg.

"Shouldn't you be kissing my hand again?"

"Oh my apologies let me make it up to you." Greg replied as he pulled Mycroft closer.

 


	45. You knew?

  **14\. You knew?**

Greg looked around the room all smiles.

"Oh stop that ridiculous face Graham." Sherlock reprimanded from the other side of the room.  Greg ignored him and double checked the table settings.

"It's fine; I do know how to set a table."

"I know Sherlock, I just want it to be perfect, this is big you know." Greg explained as he walked around the table. 

"It's his birthday. Not so big." Sherlock commented as he too stood up and walked around the room, picking stuff and putting it back down.  Greg met him halfway.

"It is big Sherlock, you know it is." Greg softly said as he felt the little box in his jacket.  Sherlock watched him with an expression that Greg would remember as the closest to fondness. 

"You changed him, you know." Sherlock voice was hardly above a whisper.  Greg smiled at Sherlock, his face open and sincere.

"He did mine, just like you."

"Yeah but you're not proposing to me." Sherlock said, his face in a rare smile, his eyes alight with mirth.  Greg chuckled.

"That I am not."

"Probably a good thing, we work together." Sherlock joked with Greg laughing even harder.   Sherlock laughed as well.  A burst of laughter that warmed Greg's heart. 

"Right, boundaries might just be crossed." Greg replied. 

They stayed like that for a while before Sherlock pulled on his coat. 

"You're leaving?"

"Mycroft will be here in ten minutes and I don't think my presence would be appreciated."

"It would.  He cares Sherlock, just like you...”

"Hmmm." Sherlock just waved him away and walked towards the front door.  Greg followed behind. 

"Sherlock.  Thank you for helping me with this."

"You know you didn't really need my help."

"Yeah, I did, you know your brother and the best way on how to propose to him."

"Anything you do or did from the moment he met you I knew would change him. I also knew that he was in love with you but wouldn't admit it."

"You knew? Without a doubt?"

"Of course I did.  Like you said, I know my brother.  Now you have to excuse me, this is my social quota for the day." Greg watched as Sherlock opened the door and left, he stood there smiling as he watched him leave, his fingers wrapped around the ring, Sherlock helped him with the design and engraving.  Without saying a thing, Sherlock has given him his blessing to marry his brother.

 


	46. No, I won't

  **15\. No, I won't**

They were on their way back from a function when Greg was thinking of a way to talk to Mycroft, who somehow became silent all of a sudden.  Something happened and he couldn't figure out what that was. 

"Want some hot chocolate or tea before bed?" Greg asked as he took Mycroft's hand before he climbed the stairs.

"No thank you.  I'm going to shower." Mycroft replied and let go of Greg's hand and walked up the stairs.  Greg felt hurt as he watched his partner going up.   He stood there for a few minutes until he came to a decision and rushed up the stairs.  Mycroft had closed the bathroom door which he never did before, well he did in the beginning when he was still shy, but that was long ago. Running his hand through his hair he opened the door.

"What?  Gregory what are you doing?"

"What did I do wrong?" Greg asked, his eyes pleading.

"You?" Mycroft asked confused.

"Yes me, something happened tonight and now you're distant, did I embarrass you somehow and now you can't look at me? Tell me what I did so I can fix it. Please." Mycroft walked over to Greg pulled him into a hug.

"You didn't do anything.  It's me. I saw how that ambassador's wife was flirting with you and I couldn't help but wonder what you see in me." Mycroft admitted his head buried in Greg’s neck.  Greg pulled away looking at Mycroft.  How can this man ever doubt him?

"My, love, how can you ever doubt my feelings towards you or think it would change?"

"Because you're the most amazing man I've ever met and I'm the iceman and I keep wondering when you're going to get tired of all the secrets and ice, and leave me."

"Love, I won't." Greg tried to reassure Mycroft.

"You might one day." Mycroft said disbelieving.

"No. I won't. Greg firmly stated.

"Listen.  We've been through so much these past years, and trust me when I say, my love for you gets better day by day, you can read me like a book, have I ever given you the impression that I was getting bored?"

"No."

"Precisely, now can I please shower with you so I can cuddle you in bed?"

Mycroft smiled at Greg.  Lacing their fingers together.

"I love you Gregory."

"And I you.  My beautiful silly smart man."

 

 


	47. What a jerk

16\. What a jerk

 

Greg was laying on his stomach one hand dangling off the edge of the bed, half asleep. Mycroft on the other hand, couldn’t sleep after a few hours, so he checked his email, a few newspapers around the world and pies he had fingers in, and after that he decided to stare at Greg. That seemed to be good way to spend his time. The muscles across his shoulders down his back that little dimple in his lower back. Yes it was heaven. 

 

After about thirty minutes he leaned over and ran his fingers up his back over his shoulder. 

 

Greg shifted on the bed, but otherwise he didn't wake up. Smiling Mycroft ran his fingers again and up through Greg's hair Greg didn't even stir. 

 

"Gregory." Mycroft softly whispered as he leaned even more closely as to whisper into Greg's ear.

 

"Hmg." Greg huffed as he continued to sleep.

 

Mycroft's smiled wider as he shifted so his mouth was tingling in Greg’s hair.

 

"Gregory. I'm bored."

 

"Floshu djduud." Greg replied. 

 

Sticking out his tongue he ran it over Greg's earlobe. 

 

"Gregory why don't you wake up and keep me busy?"

 

"No yu sitr."

 

"I know you're not my babysitter, but don't you think this morning can be spent in a more excited manner?" Greg shifted so he was on his side, his eyes half open.

 

"You waking me up for sex?"

 

Mycroft shrugged and pushed Greg onto his back. 

 

"You're such an arse you know?" Greg replied as he allowed Mycroft to move him into a comfortable position.

 

"It's just one of the parts you like about me." Mycroft replied as he straddled his partner. Greg just rolled his eyes and pulled Mycroft closer.

 

"You know the first time I met you, want to know my first thought?" Greg asked as he pulled Mycroft close enough to kiss. Mycroft smiled broadly before answering.

 

"What a jerk. I saw right through you."

 

Greg burst out laughing. "Then you thought I looked too sexy for your own good." Mycroft added. Greg placed his hands on Mycroft's cheeks.

 

"That's true, you had me that moment."

 

"Same here, now can we stop talking?"

 

In response Greg just closed their lips into a beautiful morning kiss.


	48. Stiff

** 17\. Stiff **

Greg eyed the small tub with disdainful eyes.  

"What is that?" He finally asked as Mycroft sat down on the bed and lifted Greg's legs onto his lap.

"It's my mother's homemade recipe; it’s your basic aqueous cream, with certain essential oils, that is specifically designed for stiff muscles. 

"Did she use it on you and Sherlock?"

"Oh yes. Sherlock especially, he was always climbing in trees and running around, which meant he fell down and scraped his knees more than once.   After she grew tired of buying ointment from the pharmacy she decided to make her own.  Much more efficient in the long run. Sherlock would also allow the cream more than ointment because of the smell.  Greg smiled as Mycroft unscrewed the lid and held it out for Greg who took one whiff and moaned.

"Oh God what is that?"

"Its wintergreen mixed with lemongrass, wintergreen is anti-inflammatory and lemongrass relaxes stiff muscles and cramps.  If the case was severe she would also add a few drops in the bath water.  However after Sherlock refused to get out of the bath after two hours, mummy had to rethink that."

"And you?" Greg asked softly as Mycroft started to rub the cream into his partner's legs.

"I still add it sometimes to my bath, along with lavender oil.  I find it very relaxing."

"We should take a bath together once with it, I bet we can stay there for hours."

"We will. Have to force myself out of the bath."

"Oh I'll help." Greg replied with a wink which immediately turned into a frown when Mycroft hit a sore spot.

"Did you warm up completely?" Mycroft asked as he continued to rub.

"Yeah course I did." Greg replied his eyes immediately telling a different story. 

"Hmmm." Mycroft didn't say anything as he just rolled his eyes.  Sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t in fact the oldest between them, for Greg most certainly can be a challenging man, much like his brother. 

"Hey at least we won the game." Greg tried defending his honour.  

"You played well my dear."

"Thanks.  Oh hell your hands are wonderful healing magical hands." Greg exclaimed as he lay back on the bed with Mycroft rubbing his sore muscles.

"You're incorrigible Gregory."

"Maybe, but I'm yours."

"Yes.  A fact I'm thankful for every day."

"Yeah me too."


	49. A pink tutu

** 18\. A pink tutu **

As with most couples Greg and Mycroft would sometimes go on a walk through the park or a market depending on their mood.

It was a Friday night and they decided on the winter wonderland at Hyde Park.  They dressed warmly and set out to spend some time together.   Hand in hand they went through the market laughing as people were having fun or going on rides.  On more than one occasion Mycroft or Greg had to step back or moved out of the way when an overzealous child ran through the crowd.  

At the one stall they bought some refreshments and made their way to the ice rink. 

They were just in time to see a small group of people in costume re-enacting a scene from 'Swan Lake on ice'. It was beautiful, well organised, superbly presented and overall well received. 

Greg could see Mycroft was very impressed with the performance.   He kept talking about it on their way home.

"Maybe we should go see a full production of the play if you enjoyed it so much." Greg added as they walked home, Mycroft looked momentarily surprised.

"You'd go with me?"

"Of course, why won't I?"

"Because you didn't want to go to see Les Miserables when my parents were here."

"It's Les Mes, love, anything but that.  I enjoyed Phantom, Lion King was amazing and I enjoyed that orchestra thingy last month."

"It was a symposium."

"That's what I said.  Anyway, I always loved Tchaikovsky and Swan lake was a good production, besides seeing it on ice would be magnificent."

Mycroft grabbed his hand and kissed the palm. 

"You surprise me more and more every day."

"Good."

"It was a good performance back there."

"Yeah, I just don't understand the need for a pink tutu in everything.  Will it hurt if they wore different colours?" Greg said as they walked with Mycroft laughing at the statement. 

"Oh Gregory. Only you."

"Only me what?"

 


	50. Frozen

** 19\. Frozen **

Greg was happy and Mycroft was a little disappointed that apparently the universe is against him and made him incapable of one small task. 

He apparently can't cook.  It was a date, and he decided on going all out and do everything himself.  He set the table in beautiful matching colours, perfect.  He made the table bouquet of flowers and it was wonderful.  Anthea was way too impressed with his flowers skills and demanded he did hers next when she goes on a date.

The wine was perfectly chilled, and Greg was impressed with the ice bucket next to the table. 

Mycroft made personally sure that his house was cleaned and smelling nice.  There were little vanilla and sandalwood candles burning around the room.  The music was perfectly chosen. 

The starters were delicious.  The salads and side dishes were amazing the chicken?  That was not so great. 

Turns out he didn't let it thaw properly so the outside was cooked to perfection,  the inside was frozen. 

He blushed in embarrassment as he tried to explain the situation to Greg. 

He felt like a right failure that lost any opportunity to make an impression on Greg. 

Yes, it was quite far into their relationship, but still. 

He stood there in the middle of the room, the half cooked chicken taunting him.

"I'm sorry Gregory."

"What on earth for?"

"The chicken, as you can see I completely messed it up. I wanted to make tonight special and I've managed to ruin it." Greg stood up and took the chicken and put it on the table behind him.

"Hey you didn't ruin anything. This, all of this is beyond anything I ever expected.  No one in my entire life as gone through so much trouble for me, and the fact that you did, regardless of the consequences of the chicken is more than I'd ever hoped for."

"Really?  You're not angry?"

"No. In fact I'm even more head over heels in love with you."

"You are?" Mycroft voice was soft, shaking and Greg hated it. He hated that Mycroft could sound so unsure of himself and in response he pulled him close into a kiss, when he let go he only moved a fraction away so he could still be close.

"Yes. So tell me My, what's for desert?" Greg smiled at Mycroft's face expression.

"If you call me My again you won't get any." Mycroft retorted yet his eyes had no sternness...

"Oh that's too bad, My," Greg replied as he pulled Mycroft into another kiss before he could protest.

 


	51. Blanket

** 20\. Blanket **

It's been a few nights now that there would be a slight disagreement in the Holmes-Lestrade household.  

It was the age old disagreement, which knows no gender, colour or label, the fight of the blanket.  

Greg would argue that Mycroft steals all the blankets during the night and Mycroft would say that Greg keeps it for himself.  Instead of a double bed blanket, they bought a Queen Size blanket.   It went well, for a few nights, but soon enough that blanket became too small for Mycroft's long legs and Greg’s broad shoulders. 

In an attempt to keep the peace Anthea bought them a King size duvet wide enough for Greg's broad shoulders and long enough for Mycroft's never-ending legs. 

That seems to do the trick,  that is until they decided to buy a King size bed to go with the blanket and their activities after they nearly had a trip to the ER when one of them fell off the bed and hit his head on the bedside table.  

Yeah, Sherlock still refuses to acknowledge that his brother and Greg can be adventurous. 

 

In the end there was only one solution Mycroft wrapped the blanket around them both and they would sleep as close as possible to the middle. 

Greg thinks it was all a masterplan to make sure they spoon when they sleep. Then again it was a perfect plan.

 


	52. No pen

** 21\. No pen **

Mycroft took a break from his busy schedule to hook into his surveillance system at home.  It was Greg's day off and he decided he was going to do his laundry.   They have a dry cleaning services, but Greg insisted on doing their laundry - that is too say when he has time.

Switching on the audio he started laughing.  Greg was singing he was in fact doing more than that; he was in his boxers dancing around the house.  Mycroft stopped his paperwork and leaned back in his chair.  Greg was a feast to watch.   Shaking his head he quickly took out his phone and typed

 

**"No pen."**

 

He watched as Greg did a 180 turn still singing and went to his phone.  He read the texts and burst out laughing.  Mycroft watched as he typed back.

 

_"That was once. GL."_

**"Gregory you forgot your pen in your shirt, it came undone in the wash and the entire wash was stained black. MH"**

_"How convincing would it sound if I say I was trying out the new polka dot craze? GL"_

**"That's what you're going with? MH"**

Greg shrugged and Mycroft smiled.   How was Mycroft supposed to get the shrug through text, and if he wasn’t watching he wouldn't have known.

 **"You're shrugging isn't very convincing. MH” Greg** lifted his head and looked around.

He lifted his arms in a "where" gesture.   Rolling his eyes Mycroft typed.

**"Somewhere. MH"**

_"That's a shame because now I won't know how to stand to get you the best view. GL"_

 

Mycroft’s insides started to flutter, what is Gregory planning now?

 

**"View of what? MH"**

_" ;)"_

 

Before Mycroft could reply Greg removed his boxers with slow dancing moves, he lifted the garment and twisting it in the air, added it to the wash.  Mycroft put his head between his hands, between Sherlock and Gregory’s antics he would never have a peaceful day.

However, Gregory’s antics are very beneficial to their relationship.

 


	53. The file

** 22\. The file **

Greg knew that Mycroft had him all figured out when they met, it took him a long time to ask him, exactly what he had on him,  what all the titbit of information in the file were. 

It was a week before their wedding they were lying in bed.  Mycroft sat up and opened his bedside table drawer, confused Greg sat up as well, his back resting against the headboard.  When Mycroft turned to him he had a file in his hand, bound with a string and 'top secret' stamped on top.

"Uum Love, you know I don't have clearance for this." Mycroft blushed.

"You do for this." Mycroft responded and made himself comfortable against Greg’s chest.  Greg frowned but took the file and opened it.  He was greeted with a picture of him. 

"This is my file." He stated. 

"No, it is The file, the most important file I've ever held."  This time it was Greg's turn to blush.

"I always suspected you have a file on me, I didn't expected to see it."

"I was hoping you would fill in some blanks, or at least, bring the facts to life with your personality."

"I'll see what I can do."

They spent the rest of the morning with Greg paging through the papers and telling him all about its contents.  Mycroft hang on to every word, expanding the file he had on Greg in his mind palace.

 


	54. Wet

** 23\. Wet **

Greg stood under the pergola, his eyes on his husband who insisted on doing some gardening.  Above them the clouds were darkening, rain was on the menu today.

"Love, leave that flowers till tomorrow, it is going to rain soon." He called out Mycroft put the small trowel down and looked up.

"I still have a few minutes, and it's a shrub, not flowers." He replied as he covered the roots in the sand and soil. 

"It's green; it has leaves and roots...."

"Don't finish that my dearest, why don't you make yourself useful and take the empty plant holders inside?" Mycroft asked his free hand pointing to the containers next to him; they bought some new kind of shrub that Mycroft insisted would go nice with the stone path. Greg didn't fight him, just added it to the trolley and swiped his card.   Greg pushed himself from the pillar and walked to Mycroft.

Picking up the container he kissed Mycroft's head.

"As you wish my Love." In return he was gifted with a shy smile that never seized to melt his heart.   Greg just threw away the containers when it started to rain, light and drizzling water from the heaven.  He turned around to shout 'told you so' to his stubborn husband when he smiled.  Mycroft had everything packed up and was looking at his handy work with pride, a smile on his face, and not in the least bothered about the rain or getting wet. 

He looked up at Greg, who smiled back.  Walking slowly to Mycroft he wrapped his arms around the man and leaned up for a kiss. 

"Kissing in the rain?  Just when I thought you can't get more romantic." Greg eyed the pergola and the soft cushions. 

"How about I show you how romantic I can be when I make love to you on there under the rain?"

"I'd like that very much." Mycroft replied as he grabbed Greg's hand and lead him to the pergola. 

 


	55. Mr & Mr

** 24\. Mr & Mr **

John went with them but Sherlock refused.  Mycroft and Greg were choosing a topping for their wedding cake. 

It took them a week to figure out the cake, Mycroft wanted traditional, Greg wanted something modern, and one wanted vanilla, the other chocolate or red velvet.  The cream cheese decoration, however didn't suit everyone's taste.  

The debate even went to a two-tier cake or three-tier. However that was all sorted and now was the topping. 

"Since you wanted a traditional cake Love, does that mean you want the traditional topping too, a little man and girl in white dress?" Greg asked his eyes full of mirth.  John smiled and turned around. 

"Very funny Gregory."

"Just asking Love."

Mycroft shook his head and went over to the Mr & Mr section, catering especially for two men. There were the usual two men in black suites, white suites and even navy.  Mycroft picked the one on in navy.

"Where not taking the blue one Love, our suites are black." Greg said as he stood next to Mycroft, his eye catching the one where two men sat on a bike.

"It's Navy Gregory and I was just looking, by the way you can stop eyeing that one the motorcycle."

"But it's so cool! John look at this." John walked over rolling his eyes at Greg's selection.

"This is, well it is most certainly different."

Greg was all smiles.

"I know right, check out the detail on the bike, my guess it's either a Yamaha or Kawasaki." If eye rolling counted as cardio, Mycroft would be super fit.  John did notice though how his eyes were focused on Greg, his feelings for Greg, clear to see.

"Gregory, I’m not putting that on my wedding cake."

"Ours Love."

"Ours.  How about that one?" He pointed to a couple in car.

"In the convertible?" Greg asked as he put the one down and picked up the other. 

"If you insist on a means of transport."

John eyed the piece and smiled.

"Mycroft, you just want it because it looks all sleek and mysterious like you and your black cars." 

"Hey don't knock those cars, they're very spacious and soundproofed, My and I tested that." Greg replied. Mycroft blushed and John's eyes widen. 

"Okay, that is too much info; I’m going home and asking Sherlock to wash my ears with bleach. Have fun." John handed the piece back and walked out

Greg leaned forward to Mycroft.

"You know, I thought living with Sherlock would've toughened him up." Mycroft sighed and continued the search.  They didn't find anything they liked. 

 

A week later they received a package in the post from Baker Street. They opened it together.  It was from Sherlock. 

Inside there was a beautiful handmade silver umbrella, standing upright and dangling from the handle was a pair of cuffs.  It was beautiful, shiny and perfect. 

 

The search for a wedding cake topping was over; it did however give them a theme for the rest of the wedding.

 


	56. The fight

** 25\. The fight **

The door slammed with a thud that rattled the frame. 

"How the hell was I supposed to know it would offend the man?" Greg yelled as he ripped off his tie.  Mycroft stood in silence removing his coat.

"It is a well-known Japanese custom." Greg stared at Mycroft.

"Oh it is, is it?" Sarcasm dripping down his voice.

"You know it is Gregory."

"No Mycroft I bloody hell did not. Where the hell am I supposed to learn that?"

Mycroft breathed deep as he started climbing the stairs. 

"It is taught in most private schools and refining institutions that you do not leave your chopsticks upright in your bowl of food. It is offered to the dead and considered to invite bad omens to the table."

"Well doo da dee, I wasn't in a private school, I didn't attend a refining school so I didn't know that my chopsticks upright in my food would bring the sodding grim reaper to dinner!" Greg retorted as he started following Mycroft up the stairs.  

"So I discovered, however I did thought that you would use some sense and follow the rest at the table." Mycroft replied.  Greg stopped.

"Oh monkey see, monkey do?"

Mycroft stopped as well and turned around, his face betraying his confusion.

"Gregory, the point is that I need to do a lot of strategic planning to rectify this mistake of yours."

"You mean kissing arse to fix your dumb boyfriend's lack of social skills?"

"To make it understandable on your level; yes. Now I'm tired and done with this conversation." Mycroft continued his ascent up the stairs, leaving Greg on the bottom.  Hurt and feeling inadequate.

"My level?  If I'm such an embarrassment to you why did you take me with?" Mycroft failed to notice the pain in Greg’s voice as he turned to their room.

"I wasn't aware of the ignorance in your knowledge, next time I'll properly prepare you. Now come on, it's getting late." With that he disappeared in the room, the hallway lit up with light as Mycroft switched the light on.  Greg stood there on the steps his eyes burning.  He looked around the room, all evident of money and class and his mood turned even darker. He turned around and picked up his coat and his wallet. His phone still in his inner jacket. 

Slowly and with heavy feet he opened the front door and left, his heart breaking with every step, knowing that this fight could be the fight that changes everything.  He is so way out of Mycroft’s private school and refining institution league that even his common sense and ignorance was beyond par.

It took Mycroft ten minutes to realise Greg didn't follow him up. He stepped out the room into the hallway.  It was dark.

"Gregory?" There was no answer.  With his heart beating faster and mind panicking he switched the hallway light on. The stairway was empty.  With even more panic he rushed down the stairs and into every room.  It was all empty; stopping into the foyer his eyes ran over everything until it came to rest near the door.  Ten minutes ago, Greg’s coat was hanging there.  It wasn’t now.

"Oh God no.  Gregory!" He yelled.   Lifting out his phone he dialled.  There was no answer; he waited till the message alert kicked in.

"Gregory I'm sorry.  Please come back.  Gregory.  Please."

The fight replayed in his mind and as he realised the mistake he made he crumbled to the first step of the stairs, his head in his hands. 


	57. The bone crunches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg is the victim of a homophobic murderer. (He doesn't die just to be clear)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this fic deals with homophobia.

** 26\. The bone crunches **

Greg and Sally were seated in the interrogation room, the man in front of them doing everything he can to make their lives difficult.  They were tired and have been sitting with the man for about three hours now.

"We need you to tell us what happened because right now all evidence points to you being guilty." Greg tried again.  The man snarled at him his teeth bared. 

"Why would I tell you anything, a man like you?" Greg narrowed his eyes. 

"A man like me, you mean a cop?" He asked already knowing it would be the wrong answer.

The man smiled again. 

"No. Of your kind."

Greg felt his blood starting to boil.  The man is a homophobe. 

"Same as your brother?  Is that why you killed him?" Sally eyes flickered to Greg, then back to the man, her instincts on edge, knowing something was about to happen. 

"It's not natural!" He cried out and Greg had to use all his willpower not too get angry.  If he played this right he'll get a confession, his pride and personal orientation be damned.

"But murder is?" He asked.  Sally waited for the right moment when the confession will come so she can get both herself and Greg out. He might be willing to sacrifice his pride and ego for a confession but she is not allowing his dignity to suffer too.

"Yes! It needs to be taken out, people like you."

"Thanks for the confession." Sally said and stood up her hand grabbing Greg's shoulder to pull him with her.  Greg allowed her to pull him up, knowing her plan.  The man got even more angry when he realised he was trapped and had no way out. He reached out and grabbed Greg and with one swift move threw him against the wall.  The breath was knocked out of him and Sally opened the door, yelling for help.  The man however wasn't done, as Greg sagged to the floor the man kicked him in the ribs and Greg could hear the bone crunches underneath, he definitely had a broken rib or two.  The man didn't stop his assault on Greg and it took three men to restrain him.  Sally called an ambulance as she bend down to Greg who was struggling to get up or even breathe properly. 

"C...a...ll  My....ft." Greg choked out as he his hands clutched his stomach and chest.  Sally nodded and took out his phone.  Sally went with the ambulance as they transported Greg to the hospital.  Greg's phone in her hand.  She waited till he was wheeled in and she was in the waiting area before she called Mycroft. 


	58. Crazy in love

** 27\. Crazy in love **

It was a beautiful day, London was experiencing a good old sunny day, and the wind was blowing a comfortable breeze that broke the harshness of the sun.  Greg was walking with Sherlock and John following behind as they walked towards the Yard.  

"Oh what does he want?" Sherlock said as they saw a black car stopped in front of the Yard and Mycroft stepping out.  Greg stomach fluttered, Mycroft looked extra dashing in his black pinstripe suit with a pale blue shirt and tie, emphasising his eyes to the max.  Mycroft waited until they came to a stop in front of him before talking.

"Good morning detective, John, Sherlock" he added. To Greg's dismay he was the only one greeting him back, John just nodded and Sherlock ignored him,  going straight into being 'annoying jerk of a little brother' mode.

"What do you want?" Before Mycroft could answer Greg stepped between them.

"Not here, can we please go in and talk like civilised people?" Mycroft and Sherlock both stared at him as if he just got a second head before straighten their backs simultaneously.

"You're right Inspector, lead the way." Mycroft said. Sighing Greg turned around and walked to the entrance. 

As he opened the door a young constable came running out, missing Greg but knocked into Mycroft, making him loose his balance, Greg acted on impulse and caught Mycroft.  Mycroft grabbed on to Greg and they both stood still with the close proximity.  Mycroft clinging to Greg as he held him up.

"Ah when's the wedding?" Greg blushed and blinked as he and Mycroft looked to the side where two teenagers we're standing, their eyes fluttering with the apparent display they put on. Sherlock turned to the teenagers.

"Ahh the youth of today, so crazy in love." His voice all fake smiling enjoying the embarrassment of his brother.  John tried to keep his composure as he added.

"Yeah, we're hoping for a June wedding."  Mycroft was furious, his face red with anger and embarrassment.   Greg smiled and looked down at Mycroft. His courage raising and his heart bursting with love.

"Hey, can I buy you dinner?" Mycroft opened his mouth to respond but was speechless by Greg’s expression, slowly but surely he smiled and gave a brief nod. Greg's smile went a million times wider.  He helped Mycroft up and slowly let go.  Sherlock and John was too busy laughing to see the expression on their faces as they went inside, Greg brushing his hand against Mycroft’s as he walked past.  That afternoon Mycroft received his invitation.

 

_"Dinner tonight?  GL"_

**"You're not wasting time.  MH."**

_"Not when I knew what I can have.  Oh just so you know, I’m holding your hand as well.  Seven okay? GL."_

**"Where?  I can't wait. MH."**

 


	59. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, another sad one.

** 28\. Drunk **

Greg eyed the glass in front of him filled with the amber liquid, he kind of lost track of how many he had tonight.  It was not the best decision considering he should technically be on pain killers. He eyed the brace around his wrist, it wasn't a throbbing pain, but the alcohol did help with the numbness.  The light on his phone haven't stopped blinking with incoming texts and calls, either John or Mycroft.  He didn't care.  John would fuss and expect him to talk about it and Mycroft would try to apologise, or have another go at him.  It wasn’t supposed to happen; he and Mycroft had a fight that escalated outside of his office.   It was about a case that Mycroft took out of his hands without telling him about it before hand.  Greg got furious. Taking another sip Greg thought back to the fight.

 

"Dammit Mycroft, you could've at least gave me a heads up."  Greg yelled as Mycroft picked up his umbrella and made to the door to his office.

"No, I don't.  This is my job, you knew that beforehand."

"I did, I'm not asking for you to change that, I'm asking for a little respect and tell me before you just take it out of my hands and make me look like an idiot in front of my team." Greg followed Mycroft as he walked to the hallway and the elevator.  Anthea was already waiting for him. Two of his security people were standing on either side.

"Gregory why would I care what your team thinks, besides I don't have to tell you anything now please leave, we can discuss this later in more private settings." 

Mycroft retorted and pushed the button for the elevator to open.  Anthea ignored him.  Greg stood as if struck; Mycroft is dismissing him again, this time in front of his people.  The second time today.  The door opened and Mycroft and Anthea stepped inside. Mycroft turned around to look at Greg.  Something snapped in Greg and he tried to grab Mycroft's hand.

"No. I want to talk about it now." Before Mycroft could do anything this security man on Greg's right reached out, grabbed his wrist and twisted behind Greg’s back in one move.  Greg cried out and watched Mycroft attempting to move closer but the doors slid close. 

"Let me go!" Greg asked but the man twisted his arm more and led him outside.  He didn't let go, no matter how much Greg asked.   The man finally let go and half pushed him out the door before he slammed it close in Greg’s face   Greg brought his arm to his chest,  his wrist aching.  His phone rang but he struggled to get it out of his inside pocket as his hand was incapable of moving, and his left hand couldn't reach it. He shrugged off his jacket and after an effort got his phone out. It was a private number.   Before he could do anything a text came in.

 

_"Mr. Holmes wants to know if everything is okay. Anthea."_

 

Greg didn’t bother to reply as he made his way to the street and called a taxi.   He needed to go to the hospital.   His arm was bruised and turning blue, he needed an x-ray.

Two hours later he was sent home, booked off for a week with a fractured wrist.  He knew he didn't need to inform Mycroft as Mycroft would now something had happened; he was there and couldn't be bothered to stop the elevator to see why his boyfriend cried out. 

So instead of resting he decided on drinking his sorrow away. .which is why he sat on the sofa his phone ringing every few moments and the notification light unrelenting in the blinking. 

Finishing his glass he tried to pour another but couldn’t; he was too drunk and too unfocused with his left hand to pour so instead he just lay down on the sofa and passed out. 

 

Greg was still asleep when his front door opened and the tired and exhausted figure of Mycroft came in.  Putting his umbrella and briefcase down he made his way to the bedroom, unable to find Greg he walked towards the living room and switched on a lamp.  His heart ached as he saw Greg, passed out on his back his left arm dangling towards the ground and his right arm, resting on his chest.   Mycroft frowned seeing his right arm and the bottle of pills on the table next to the bottle of alcohol.  

"Gregory!" He called out but there were no response, Greg just shifted and continued sleeping.  Mycroft rushed over and picked up the bottle, it was still sealed.  Slowly he grouch down and touched the brace around Greg's wrist 

"Oh, what have I done?" Mycroft whispered as he sagged down onto the floor his head in his hands.  How the hell is he supposed to fix this?

 

 


	60. Binary

** 1\. Binary **

Greg and Mycroft were both relaxed and doing paperwork.  Mycroft sat at the dining room table and Greg was laid back on the sofa, his legs outstretched typing away on his laptop. 

It was quiet with music just loud enough to break the silence. 

Greg's email alerted him to an incoming mail. 

Opening it he started to read, his eyes becoming wider and wider.  

"My?" His voice was shaking and filled with worry.  Mycroft immediately stood up and walked over to Greg. 

"Gregory?"

"What would you do if I tell you I think I'm being blackmailed?"

"What?" Mycroft asked confused. 

"More accurately, I think I'm about to be blackmailed, or in the process of being blackmailed,  not really sure how to phrase it."

"Why would you say something like that?"

Greg turned the laptop so Mycroft could read the email.

_"To Detective Inspector Lestrade.   Your relationship with Mycroft Holmes is certainly to be admired, I wonder what would happen if the relationship can survive outside influences.   The paparazzi these days can be relentless, especially if there are compromising photos to be circulated.  However, I do think a deal can be reached that would prove beneficial to us all. "_

Mycroft eyes widen as he read it, his hands automatically searching his pocket for his phone only to realise it wasn’t there as he was in his gown. 

When he finished reading he quickly got up and walked back to his laptop and was furiously typing and making calls simultaneously.  Greg sat back and folded his arms, watching his partner in action. 

When it seems as Mycroft was done he turned to Greg.

"You needn't worry,  it will be sorted out soon. It looks as though the person used a binary code or virus to hack into your email,  it shouldn't be possible with my Internet access and security."

Greg smiled.

"I wasn’t worried......" Mycroft’s narrowed his eyes and lifted his eyebrows.

".....okay I was,  but seeing you in action not only calmed me, it actually turned out to be a great turn on  your amazing." Mycroft smiled and walked over to Greg, untying the belt on his robe.

"Is everything I do a turn on for you?"

Swallowing Greg licked his lips.

"Yeah, oh yeah." Smirking Mycroft dropped his robe and straddled Greg.  The threat on their relationship forgotten.

 


	61. Master

** 2\. Master **

Greg came back from the bathroom to see his boss in his office. 

"Sir?"

"This case with the potential serial killer, have you got that friend of yours in to check it out?"

"You mean Sherlock?"  Greg asked and noticed that his boss would give a slight cringe when Sherlock’s name is mentioned. 

"Yes him. The case is going to be high profile if not solved soon so the quicker we can sort this out the better."

"So you'd like me to go over there?"

"Yes. Go alone, he aggravates Sally and then we all suffer."

Greg nearly replied with a ‘isn't that the truth’ but refrained himself. 

He hardly left the office when his phone rang. 

"Yeah?"

"Is that how you always answer your phone detective Inspector?"

"Well it's not like I can go oh hello your sexy beast. What if it's not you?" Greg laughed as he heard the inhaling over the phone.

"Well that would prove difficult."

"Yes it would.  How can I help?"

"I need you to stop by my office in twenty minutes, there’s a possible link to one of your cases."

"Damn, can I maybe come a bit later, I’m on my way to Sherlock, and my boss actually ordered me over to help on a case."

"I have a meeting at five, it has to be now, and you can go to Sherlock afterwards."

"Love this is a high priority case." Greg knew he was close to whining but didn't care. The last thing he needed was trouble with the boss.

"I'll help you besides I'm can reward you in ways your boss can't." This time it was Greg's turn to blush and gasp. 

"You know between you, my boss and Sherlock I have to many masters."

"You don't have even one master, you just try to please everyone and I think I should be first."

"Yeah okay. I'm on my way, and you better make it worthwhile."

"Oh Gregory, don’t I always?" Greg could hear the smugness.

"Arse."

"Love you too."

 


	62. Storyteller

** 3\. Storyteller **

Turns out Greg can be a writer when he needed to be. Mycroft was pleasantly surprised and very turned on when he would find Greg with his glasses and book in front of him, scribbling away.  Sherlock had tried multiple times to get hold of the book, but so far unsuccessful.  Greg said he could read it when he was finished and if he promised not to say anything about sentiment, emotions and so on.

He started writing when Mycroft announced that they are going to be parents.   The surrogate was four weeks pregnant and in eight months they are going to be daddies.  They had a big party with the closest friends and family present to share this good news.   The Holmes parents were beyond ecstatic with the prospect of becoming grandparents and mummy already started to knit baby booties. When she gave Mycroft the pair he hands shook as he tried to keep the tears at bay.

Greg decided on telling the story of their parents to the little one, and the others on the way.  Mycroft would fill in the blanks when Greg's memory was failing him but they did okay.  Mycroft loved how he insisted on writing it in his handwriting instead of typing it.

He always knew Greg was a storyteller, his face and hand movement bringing out the adventure he was telling.

By the time the baby was almost there Greg had filled two journals just one more page before he could start a new book. 

The last page was filled when the baby was born; Mycroft held the soft person in his arms, tears down his face, the new uncle and grandparents was waiting outside to meet the little Holmes-Lestrade. Greg took a picture and quickly wrote down the last page next to Mycroft.

_"And so your dads looked upon you, knowing they have never seen anything as beautiful or precious as you.  With one cry you brought us down to tears and amazement vowing to protect you above all else in the world.  As this books closes I'll start a new one, where you become the centre of our lives."_

Mycroft read it and pulled Greg close.  Both happy and together.  That’s how their family found them a few minutes later, smiling around a little bundle _._

 


	63. Shadows

** 4\. Shadows **

The car was parked around the corner from the crime scene, only the front of the car was visible.  Greg went on with his duties knowing the car will wait, it always does. Still he tried not to take too long.  

After he was finished and the packing up started he made his way over to the car. 

The door opened smoothly as he climbed inside.   The only surprise was that instead of Anthea as usual, it was Mycroft that sat opposite him

"Mycroft?" The surprise evident in his voice.

Mycroft smiled and leaned over to straddle Greg only too happy to accommodate him.

"I couldn't wait to see you." Mycroft mumbled between kisses.

"If I knew it was you inside I would've rushed." Greg replied whenever his mouth was free.

"I didn't want you to neglect your work."

"Thanks Love." They stayed close like that as the car took them home, only parting to climb out and went inside. 

Dinner, thanks to Mycroft’s staff, was in the oven, still warm.  A wonderful dish of lasagne with a side salad. 

"So how was your day?" Greg asked between bites, the atmosphere light and warm.  Mycroft told him all about his day, at least the parts he could share and Greg did the same.   Listening to Mycroft who saw the scene and made a few connections that he shared with Greg. 

After dinner they had a nice long bath when Mycroft took Greg's hand.

"Gregory?" His voice was soft and uncertain.   Greg was immediately on alert.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I was thinking about coming out of the shadows regarding our relationship."

"You want to go public?" Greg was hoping for this moment and he couldn't wait to tell everyone he is with Mycroft.

"Well we’ve been talking about it for a while and I know you want children and we're not getting younger so it only makes sense to tell everyone we're together before the marriage and parenting." Greg smiled broadly, Mycroft wants to marry him and have children and apparently soon.

"So how long after we go public do you want us to get married and start a family?"

"Hmmm, not so long, will a month be ok?" Greg choked as he watched Mycroft, a month!  Yeah that is soon.  Mycroft eyed him and sighed.

"Fine three weeks even I can’t arrange faster than that."

Greg burst out laughing at pulled him closer kissing him furiously. 

"Shall we get out of the bath and see if we can start the family sooner?" Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"You are aware none of us can get pregnant?"

"Does that mean you don't want to have sex with me?" Greg asked innocently as he climbed out, Mycroft followed taking the towel and pretended to hit Greg. 

"Oi!"

"Oh shush I hardly touched you." They smiled at each other, happy to be together and planning their awesome future.


	64. Agnes

** 5\. Agnes **

Anthea stared at the stuffed toy on her desk, no one but Mycroft and Greg knew it was her birthday, her real one and there is no way Mycroft would send her a fluffy stuffed unicorn which means it was Greg.   She picked up the toy and removed the little card hanging around his neck. 

_"Sugar is sweet_

_Lemons is tart_

_I love you_

_More than a unicorn fart."_

She gave a small snort of laughter. 

"What is that?" Mycroft’s narrowed his eyes as if the toy offended him personally.   Anthea gave him the note and laughed again at his reaction.

"It's from Greg, my birthday present." She answered. 

Mycroft frowned even more.

"And he gave you a stuffed toy?"

"It’s what it represents."

"You lost me."

"Despicable Me?" Mycroft was beyond confused. 

"It is a very good animation, the one girl was called Agnes, and she got a stuffed unicorn and as she hugged it she exclaimed "It's so fluffy I'm gonna die" which became a hit.  And since Greg found out it's my real name he would send me Despicable Me related jokes and quotes about Agnes."  Mycroft saw the fondness she just couldn't hide, Greg had managed to win her over and do it with sentiment, and then again that's how he won Mycroft over as well. He remembered when Anthea told him her real name

***

Greg eyed the card in his hand, Anthea stood in front of him waiting impatiently for him to open it.

"Is it lethal?"

"Not yet." She answered.  Greg smiled and opened the card. He burst out laughing seeing the top words.  'Happy surviving Mr. Holmes!'  It was his one year anniversary with Mycroft.   Mycroft was on the phone and turned to them with question. They ignored him as Greg continued to read

_'Thank you for your unfailing understanding and compassion with Mr. Holmes.  This year the change in him was noticeable and made my job caring for him easier.   You change him for the better and therefore I will gift you with something personal.   My real name: Agnes B....'_

Anthea watched him as he read, his eyes softening when she mentioned Mycroft and widening when she gave her name and then interest with the initial of her second name.  Well, maybe she'll tell him on the second anniversary.

"Agnes...." Greg said softly testing her name on his lips before his smile widens and he looked at her in utter delight.   Before she could do anything Greg pulled her into a hug.

"Thank you Agnes." He thanked her more for just her name, he thanked her for her faith in him, he trust and loyalty.  Mycroft watched from a distance, he knew what she did, but not what she said about him.

***

"He does it regularly?" Mycroft asked as Anthea was still holding the toy, her fingers caressing the soft hair of the unicorn. 

"Every now and then, mostly jokes and pictures, this is the first toy though."  And she loved it, Mycroft could see it. 

In the years since then, there was a pen, mug, coaster, and small stationery sets that she would use when no one was watching.  


	65. Strike a pose

** 6\. Strike a pose **

The photographer looked at the two men, one happy and smiling the other trying his best to keep his composure and face neutral.

"Gregory, why did you arrange this?" The taller man asked the silver haired man, Greg if he remembers correctly.  Both attractive and he hid behind his camera as not to stare too much.  He waited for Greg to answer, because he is just as curious.

"Because Love, I want more than selfies, phone photos and CCTV photos of us, we're engaged and we are going to have an engagement photoshoot and we are going to annoy our friends and family with the lovely photos. Besides we need some photos to hang in the house." Greg sounded so convicted and entrance by the idea of having shots of them together that he could see his partner was flattered with the idea as well.

"You want to show the photos to everyone?" The photographer frowned, either he is shy or he has doesn't think he was worthy of such devotion.

Hus partner walked over to him and took both hands in his, the photographer wanted to look away, he can't remember the last time he saw such intimacy in such an everyday gesture.   These two are engulfed in a bubble or aura or energy that flows around them that made his heart ache.  He has done countless photoshoots over the years, and he knows this one will stay with him.

"If I could publish it in every single newspaper all over the world I would, but for now Sherlock and the Yard would just have to suck it up.   Mrs. Hudson will fuss and your parents will go all gooey and Sherlock would be a git, but I know he'll be happy for us.  Maybe I'll even take the best picture and hire an artist to put it on canvas, with a big antique wooden frame and hang it in the dining room." The auburn man blushed and his eyes filled with tears.   The photographer didn't think twice and snapped a few shots.  They didn't even notice.   These pictures today are taking priority over the rest in his portfolio. 

"I love you Gregory."

"I love you Mycroft."

They shared a soft kiss and again it was one of the most intimate actions he has ever seen.

Greg let go and turned to the photographer.

"Okay, we're ready."

"Good, we can begin."

Greg smile became wide and wicked as he turned to his fiancé.

"Come on Love, strike a pose!"


	66. Unread

** 7\. Unread **

Mycroft thinks it's adorable and Greg thinks it is silly.  Greg buys books, nothing strange about it, the thing is that it's all children books.   He would pass a shop or market and buy as much children books as he could. 

The first time Mycroft went to Greg's place he only saw it the next day - late afternoon - as they had to say proper morning to one another. 

Greg blushed as he tried to explain he just couldn't walk pass them, he didn’t read them, he just likes the idea that he has something to remind him that there is happy endings sometimes.  "After all you can't end a children's book with a double homicide." Greg defended. 

Mycroft fell even more in love with him and proved it with kissing the daylights out of him.

"You don't think it's a bit crazy?"  Greg asked shyly, Mycroft just smiled.

"I think it's perfectly you."

Since that day whenever they would stroll through a market or streets they would stop at a bookstore or stall and buy a copy of each children's book. They would laugh at the cashiers when asked about their children and what wonderful parents they were.

They just nodded at the parent's around them who would asked "and how old are your little one?" Mycroft answered Sherlock’s current age at that moment which had Greg in stitches the whole day.  

Two years later since they got together with an engagement party and wedding along the way, they decided on expanding their household.  They have been talking about it and made plans.  One surrogate later and a positive result Mycroft could share the happy news to his husband. 

Mycroft stood in the nursery room, white and grey walls with bright green and orange cushions and curtains scattered around, one corner of the room was set up as a mini hideaway, a soft and big sofa, for both of them,  a lamp and shelves upon shelves with all the unread children's books.  Finally they would get a chance to read these books, every single one of them to their children.  To tell them, teach them but most importantly show them that happy ending does exist. He gets teary eyed just thinking about the little faces as they hear a story.

He waited till Greg came looking for him. 

"Hi Love."

"Good day Gregory. I have some news."

"Yeah?" Greg face brightens, as he slowly put the pieces together. 

Mycroft held up a new book for Greg to see.

"Double trouble: what to do when it's twins." Greg swallowed as his eyes filled with tears, he reached out to the book and held it closer, his eyes lifted to Mycroft, who tried to keep his composure but failing.

"We're pregnant."

Greg smile shined brighter than the light streaks on his tears tracks and without hesitation threw his arms around Mycroft. 

 


	67. Sports

** 8\. Sports **

Mycroft eyed himself in the mirror.  After the thousandth turn Greg stepped in.

"You look fine, more than fine, in fact I'd go as far to say you look very sexy." Mycroft turned to Greg.

"I'm wearing jeans and a t shirt. How sexy can that be?"

"Oh you have no idea, plus it's an Arsenal shirt, that in itself is hotness, on you it becomes supernova." Greg replied all smiles.  Mycroft gave himself one last look before he squared his shoulders and walked to the door.

"It's just John that's coming over right?"

"Yes. Neither of us felt like going to the pub to watch so we are watching here." Greg replied, following Mycroft down the hallway and down the stairs. 

"And the big screen with leather recliners had nothing to do with it?" Mycroft asked innocently, yet knew he was right. 

"No, of course not, we thought it would be better here and especially with me teaching you the wonderful world of sports." Mycroft’s eyebrows rose as he turned disbelieving.

"My poor Gregory, you’re sacrifice is much appreciated." He sarcastically replied. 

"Hey you take me to opera's and plays, you watch sports with me. Perfect." Greg replied pulling Mycroft close and kissing him. Which is the exact moment John came through the door.  He stood there staring, never before has he seen Mycroft so relaxed.  They pulled apart both turning to John. 

"John, hey come on through, the beer is cold." Greg spoke and started walking to the living room.  John was still staring at Mycroft. 

"Greg insisted, I wanted to wear a normal shirt but he said no, does it look very bad?" Mycroft asked looking at his shirt.  John finally found his voice.

"No, um, its fine, you look fine."

"He looks hot doesn't he John?" Greg yelled from the other room, Mycroft blushed furiously and John shook his head, starting to walk to the living room, he sure can't wait to share this with Sherloc


	68. Judgement

** 9\. Judgement **

Greg was happy as he got up, a little jump evident in his step, to Mycroft’s delight he even hummed and sang a few words as he got ready for work.

"You are beyond cheerful this morning." Greg smiled and winked at Mycroft. 

"Today is judgement day."

"Pardon?"

"Remember the Bradley case?" Greg asked pulling on his shirt.  Mycroft stepped closer, a tie in his hand.

"How can I forget, you’ve been talking about it nonstop for these past few weeks."

"I haven't, there were times I didn't mention it." Greg replied all smiles and stood closer so Mycroft could put the tie around his neck. He leaned over to Greg's ear.

"That's true, those times you were either asleep, eating, sleeping or using your mouth for other things." The blush on Greg's face could light up a Christmas tree. He pulled Mycroft closer and lifted his eyes.

"And you call me incorrigible." Mycroft waited till he was done with the tie before kissing Greg.

"I'm proud of you, go get them in court."

"I will let you know the sentence the moment I hear it.  And thanks.  I love you too."

 


	69. Little birds

** 10\. Little birds **

Mycroft eyed the email with some trepidation.  Lately Greg would send him emails about possible 'couple' things to do.  Last week it was bird watching, thereafter came mini golf, then there was bungee jumping, a joke Mycroft's was convinced of it, and a cruise - that actually seemed like a good idea.  Yesterday it was a London sightseeing tour with the Jack the Ripper and Sweeney Todd attractions circled.  He doesn't even want to think about what it is today. 

Scrolling to the email link he clicked on the 'open' tab.

There were no attachments. 

_"Inside of us all, patiently waiting, sits a tiny little adventurous bird, waiting to get out."_

'Oh brother' Mycroft replied softly, now the man is getting philosophical.  He typed a reply.

"Are you suggesting we let the little birds out?"

Instead of replying Greg called him.

"Hey Love.  Yes. You, me doing something together for the first time, what do you say?"

"I'll think about it."

"It can be anything you know, just something we can do together, that is for us."

"Anything you say?"

"Yes, your choice."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll let you when and where."

A week later they stood on the pavement, warmly dressed and with a few other people.   Greg's eyes were big and happy, Mycroft was happy seeing Greg happy.

"This is going to be fun." Greg exclaimed for the umpteenth time he held out his hands.

"You better not let go okay?" Mycroft took his hands.

"Are you scared?"

"No, just want you close."  Smiling warmly they turned to the man calling the group together.

"Okay welcome to the real ghost tour, tonight we'll visit most of the places in London with the most haunted houses and paranormal sightings."

 


	70. At a snail's pace

** 11\. At a snail's pace **

Greg eyed Mycroft with some exasperation.

"You do know what the definition of a 'quickie' is?"

Mycroft just stared and continued to slowly unbuttoning his waistcoat.

"Of course I know what it is Gregory, but I'm not going to get unnecessary wrinkles in my clothes."

"I'm shagging you, or would like to, if you can actually stop undressing at a snail's pace.   Just let me unzip you, that’s the parts we kind of need you know."  Greg fell/sat down on the sofa his shirt untucked and trousers around his ankles.  He ran his hand through his hair.

He looked absolutely delectable to Mycroft. 

"Removing his waistcoat he rolled up his sleeves and walked closer to Greg. 

"Stand up Gregory; we’re doing this against the wall."

Greg smirked as he leaned even more back on the sofa.

"When? Next year when you finally undressed?"

Mycroft stopped in front of Greg, undoing his belt and letting his trousers fell to the floor.  Greg eyed the belt as Mycroft wrapped the belt around him and pulled him up. 

"You're impossible."

"Hmmm. In my hiatus waiting for you, you better hope there's enough time."

"Oh trust me Detective; you’re not leaving this office until we're both happy."

Greg threw his head back in laughter and Mycroft used the opportunity to attack his neck.

 


	71. He died, I smiled

** 12\. He died, I smiled **

Greg eyed the two small pot plants in the shop, one some shrubbery thingy, the other sprouting small blue flowers. 

Making his mind up he bought one and made his way to the cemetery. 

It was a bit out of the city, and a warm summer day so Greg was happy that Mycroft’s car had air conditioning. 

The car came to a stop and Mycroft took Greg's hand.

"You sure you want me to come with?"

"Yes please." Letting go of his hand they climbed out of the car.  Once side by side Greg took Mycroft's hand and with the other hand holding the pot they walked to a small tombstone next to the pebbled pathway. 

Grouching down Greg picked up some of the dead leaves and debris and threw it away in the bin. After that he placed the pot plant in front of the stone. 

"He taught me everything I knew, he always made time to ask about me, what I like and dislike, what I wanted to be when I grew up and so on." Mycroft listened attentively, he knew who this man was and the influence he had on Greg, it was in the file, but to hear it first hand from Greg was something else. 

Greg hardly ever talks about him.

He read the name again: Gregoire Pierre Lestrade.  His grandfather. 

"I wish I could have met him, I'd like to thank him for what he did for you." Greg smiled and stood up.

"He would've loved you, especially the umbrella; he had a thing for eccentric and being different." Greg looked at Mycroft and burst out laughing.  Mycroft eyes widen.

"Gregory?"

"I guess that explains why I'm so taken by you, he influenced me." Greg suddenly stopped laughing and hugged Mycroft close.

"I love you so very very much." Mycroft held just as tight.

"I love you too Gregory."

They stood like that in silence for a while when Greg let go.

"You know this is going to sound weird, but the moment he died, I smiled."

"That does sound different."

"He suffered, the cancer had taken everything from him and he couldn't even eat on his own.  I tried to help as much as I could, but I could see the pain he was in, and when he died, he looked so peaceful, finally and I smiled because I knew the pain was gone and only the good will stay."

 


	72. Gutless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some crazy unashamed fluff and so on..

** 13\. Gutless **

John and Greg had made a conscious decision to be more involved with this year's Halloween event. Not minding that it was still way too early to start they considered it 'practice' and 'the chance to try multiple designs'.

Mycroft would sit on the reclining chair in the corner either reading a book or type on his phone while they made a mess.  John was very surprised to find Mycroft so relaxed and easy going considering what they do to his backyard.  He even brought them a beer when it was getting hot. 

"Oi!" Greg cried out and threw some of the pumpkin mush to him. John turned his neck and looked confused.

"What did I do?"

"You were checking out my man's freckles." Mycroft half bent to sat back down, froze. 

"I wasn’t!" John defended.

"You better not, because that lovely piece of hotness is mine." Greg retorted mock glaring.   John took a deep breath.

"Yeah, that's more than what I wanted to hear Greg, I was just surprised since I have never seen him so relaxed." He turned to look at Mycroft who was trying to keep his face neutral, but the blush on his cheeks and sparkling eyes gave him away.

"I'm sure you're all fine Mycroft, but I'm happy with Sherlock okay, didn't expect you do carry drinks out for us."

"Don't worry John, I understand, pay no heed to Gregory."

"I'm a jealous guy, what can I say?"

Mycroft in a moment of spontaneity stood up and walked over to Greg, giving him a brief kiss.

"You're jealousy is appreciated my dearest." Greg blushed and turned back to the pumpkins.

"Yeah well."

"For fear of embarrassing you further why don't you finish with gutting the pumpkin?"

Greg nodded and pointed to the pumpkin.

"Just so you know I'll fight for you, the only gutless thing in this house is the pumpkins."  Both Mycroft and John rolled their eyes. 

"Noted." Mycroft retorted as he walked back to his chair.

 


	73. Raw wood

** 14\. Raw wood **

It was decided after much debate to redo the living room.   Mycroft had no qualms about the current state, but Greg thought it was way too magazine orientated.  So impersonal and cold that they needed to bring some life into it.

That’s how it came on the first Saturday in weeks that they both had some free time and went window shopping. 

They walked down the street from one furniture shop to the next.   Mycroft would occasionally look up at the CCTV cameras. 

"You know you can just delete all evidence that you participated in something so ordinary." Greg said smiling as they went inside a new store.

"Excuse me?" Mycroft asked his eyes immediately sweeping over the place and dragging Greg to the wood section, he will not have metal and plastic and whatever new materials they are producing furniture with.  Greg went willingly.

"You've been looking at the cameras every few minutes,  you’re either tense and expecting something,  however you are too calm for that so I'm thinking you're making a mental note to check the cameras and delete it."

"And why would I do that?" Mycroft’s eyebrows rose as he was visibly impressed by Greg.

"So no one can see you doing the actual legwork of finding furniture." Greg replied all smugly.

Mycroft face broke out in a smile.  

"That was good."

"No, I just know you, and that's why you also came to the wooden area, as all other materials have no interest to you."

"I find wooden furniture stylish and timeless."

"I'm with you there but I'm not sure about furniture dating from King Arthur's time."

"King Arthur is a fictional character Gregory."

"The furniture in that time isn't." Greg retorted and smiled as Mycroft couldn’t reply to that.  Mycroft turned and walked to the shelves area.

"I heard the natural raw wood is a good choice, stylish and giving a good character to a place."

"I'm all for that."


	74. Telephonic

** 15\. Telephonic **

The effect could be seen throughout the Yard, it happened in stages; first there was the 'work till you drop so as not to pay attention to the fact he was gone.'

There's the crux of the problem, Mycroft was gone on a trial, a very private and confidential trip and was only allowed one two calls a week.  Five minutes each.  Ten minutes a week. So what exactly do you say to the love of your life in ten minutes?

The second stage was the 'I'm here but not really here as I'm missing my husband.' This led to Sally following him everywhere to make sure he is a hundred percent focused on his job.   This led to other problems where she was in Sherlock’s presence a lot more than usual.   The fact that Sherlock sussed out the real reason she was constantly with Greg did made their interaction smoother.

The third stage was the 'longing and can't eat and sleep anymore because I see Mycroft everywhere.' 

Unbeknownst to him Mycroft had the similar experience; however he did manage to hide it better.   The only person who noticed that something was amiss was Anthea.   It took her a week to make the connection.  After every call he would stare at his phone for another five minutes, he had it open on a image folder showing him and Greg on their wedding day.  After the five minutes he would take approximately thirty minutes to get his head back in the game, which is why she arranged that those thirty minutes were spent either on breakfast, lunch or dinner depending on the time and also preparing him for the next meeting. 

Just when it seemed as though Greg will never see Mycroft again his phone rang.   Mycroft.  He was getting tired of these telephonic conversations.

"Love?" He didn't try to hide the longing in his voice. 

"My dearest." Mycroft replied.

"I...." Greg tried; it was getting harder and harder to keep the conversation light. 

"I'm coming home." Mycroft rushed out.

"What?" Greg asked, making sure he heard right.

"I'm coming home." Greg closed his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek.   The smile becoming wider. 

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you soon."

 


	75. In sight

** 16\. in sight **

The first photo was lying on his desk when he entered the office.  Greg eyed it with weariness before he put down his coffee and picked up the photo.  It was one of him and Mycroft, taking a stroll through Regent’s park a few days ago.  They were smiling and happy.  Greg was no idiot, it was taken from a telescope and from the way his gut went off like sirens that it wasn’t the paparazzi.

Turning the photo around there was one sentence:  ** _“I have you in sight.”_**

He looked up to see the office was still empty, he was the first to arrive, and he knows he was the last one to leave yesterday. 

He didn’t think twice.  Taking his phone from his jacket he opened the screen to receive an incoming text.  **“Don’t call him.”** An unsettling feeling overcame him as he tried to call the number only to hear it does not exist.  

Ignoring the text he picked up his landline when his phone alerted another incoming text.

**“DON’T CALL HIM! YOU'LL REGRET IT.”**

Greg instantly put the receiver down.   He looked around in his office.

“What am I supposed to do?”

The phone rang.

“Hello?”

“You will receive instructions; you will help me to bring down Mycroft Holmes.”

“No I won’t.”

“That’s what you say now.”

“That’s what I’ll say later as well.”  Greg replied. 

“Look out the window, see the newspaper stall on the corner?”

“Yes.”

As he watch, out of nowhere a car came and lost control, the man was just able to jump out of the way as it collided.  Greg’s hands started to shake.

“You will cooperate.”

“I won’t. “ With that he slammed the receiver down.  Mycroft has his phone tapped and as soon as he is unreachable Mycroft will investigate.  He knows there is a security detail on him, he just has to wait.   The phone rang, but he refused to answer.  Instead he locked his door, switched the light off and sat on the sofa in the corner.   He will not betray Mycroft, no matter what.

 


	76. 9/11

** 17\. 9/11 **

Greg sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes following Mycroft’s every move, his hand swishing between hangers, choosing a shirt and hangs it with the matching suit.  So far there were five different suits all in a separate bag.  Picking up the matching shoes he place it next to the others in the bottom of the suitcase.  He has one of those amazing travel suitcases with build-in compartments to keep everything where it should be. Shoes at the bottom, five pairs so far, ties with matching clips and cuff links in another. 

His pyjamas neatly folded in the other corner.  Greg tried to memorize it all, but knew he wouldn’t remember, what he will remember is exactly every emotion and stuttering heart beat as Mycroft packs.

He’ll remember the pleading voice as he asked Mycroft to be extra careful.

“It’s only Washington Gregory.”

“Yeah, but they are talking about another attack, and you need to help with prevention, what if you don’t succeed and the attack happens?”  Greg pleaded.  It was true, there was rumours of another terrorist attack, similar to the 9/11 attacks and Greg was scared.  He was deadly afraid of losing Mycroft.

“All the necessary steps are taken, even the safety measures, I will be all right.”  Mycroft took hold of his hands, trying to steady his husband’s beating heart through touch.

“Promise.”

“Gregory…”

“Promise me, you will be okay, that it will be the three days as originally plan, the extra two suits are for in case, and that you will come back to me.”

“I promise ill come back.”

“In one piece.”

“In one piece.”

“In one breathing piece.”

“Greg…”

“Promise.”  He persisted. 

“In one breathing piece.”

“In one, all is…” Mycroft placed his fingers on his husband’s lips.

“Gregory, I’ll come back to you.  I promise.  We will have dinner with candles when I comeback, well dance under the soft lights in the living room, and I will hold you as I sleep.”  Greg nodded and hugged him close.

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

 


	77. Nailed it

** 18\. Nailed it **

As far as Mycroft is concerned he will never hire a handy man again, not when his partner is turning out to be quite a versatile and talented man, by this rate he will have to break things on purpose for Greg to fix that. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”  Greg asked as he tightens the nut with the wrench, Mycroft tried to look affronted.

“I don’t enjoy things becoming undone Gregory.”

Greg snorted.

“Oh please, we both know I meant me playing handy man.”

“It certainly has its advantages.”

“By this rate, I’m inclined to believe you watch a lot of secret porn.”   Mycroft did not blush nor choke on his own breath there.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the ‘oh my nut is loose, better call a handy man’ or the ‘my goodness, the tab doesn’t work as there is no water’ sounds familiar?”

Mycroft straighten his back, ready to defend.

“The nut is loose as you are still trying to fix it, and I wasn’t informed of a burst pipe that resulted in the water being cut off for a few hours.  They were all legitimate concerns.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”  Greg replied as he let go of the nut and held out the wrench, he gave Mycroft a smouldering look.  He put on his best accent he could muster.

“It should work fine now Babe, how about a reward?”  Mycroft rolled his eyes in exasperation; he smiled back and pretended to test the nut.

“Looks like a very job well done, however the plumber is not really one of my fantasy scenarios.”

“Yeah?  What would your scenario be?”  Greg pulled himself so he was sitting on the counter pulling Mycroft closer.  Mycroft smiled sweetly.

“You’re the detective, figure it out.”  Greg stared at Mycroft who just stared back, waiting expectantly, he watched as the most predatory smile appeared on Greg’s face.

“Oh I’ve nailed it.”

“Did you now?”

“You know, it is very illegal to be so incredibly sexy, as an officer of the law, I might have to investigate.”  The response was immediate. 

“Maybe you should. Doubt you’ll find condemning evidence.”

“Yeah, I should open a very intense and in depth investigation.”

“Investigate all you want, I won’t talk.”

“Oh, I’m hoping you won’t.”

 


	78. Whiskey

** 19\. Whiskey **

When Mycroft woke up the bed was already empty, with a slight frown he made his way to kitchen.  It's not the first time he woke alone in his bed, but since Gregory moved in that hasn't happen.  Turns out Greg is a bed man, he can literally stay in bed for hours, reading, listening to music or just relax.   

One more than one occasion Mycroft had to use a few desperate ideas to get him to leave the bed.

 

He was just about to leave the comfort of the bed when the door opened and Greg stepped in - with a tray. Seeing Mycroft was awake he smiled.

"Good morning Love, sleep well?" Greg was still wearing his boxers and didn't even attempt to fix his hair; Mycroft might skip breakfast just for that.  Anyone would.

"Good morning, I was surprised to find you up so early."  Greg blushed and looked down, he had a nightmare.   Mycroft knew he feels embarrass when he gets a nightmare. It doesn't happen often, but when it does happen he gets all flustered.

"Yeah, well couldn't sleep after a bad dream so I thought I'd get started on breakfast."

"You should wake me, talk it out." Mycroft tried but Greg waved it off. 

"Nah, no reason for both of us to lose sleep. Here eat before it gets cold."

"What is it?" Mycroft asked as he sat up straighter, the issue with the nightmare forgotten, for now.

"Just some toast and marmalade. I’ll go shopping later so we can have more variety than toast at the moment." Greg jokingly added.

"It's perfect; it’s more than enough and what I usually have." Mycroft picked up a piece of toast and bit into it, it was amazing. 

"What marmalade is this, it's great."

Greg smiled and sat down.

"What do you taste?"

"Well, the usual, with ginger and.....and that is..... Gregory I taste whiskey?"

Greg laughed softly.

"Yeah, Sally gave it to me; she bought the wrong one, its whiskey and ginger I quite like it."

"Me too." Mycroft replied and took another bite before smiling 

"Whiskey in the morning, what are you doing to me?"

"Hopefully a lot more than breakfast toast."


	79. Petal

** 20\. Petal **

Mycroft found the first one at his office when he switched the small lamp on at his desk. A small petal stood upright and when he picked it up he noticed it was laminated.  At the back was a small inscription.

_"Roses have thorns to protect the beauty of the flower...or something like that.  Love you."_

Mycroft mood instantly lifted.   Gregory.

 

The second time he found one was a few days later, it was delivered with his lunch; a small daisy was pressed down and laminated.   Behind it was another inscription

_"Daisies are the friendliest flowers_

_Apparently_

_I wouldn't know, it did make me smile though"_

Mycroft smiled and tried to figure out whether it was because of the daisy or the words from Greg.   It didn't matter as it made his day just a little brighter.

So it went on, for a few weeks and Mycroft couldn’t understand where Greg was getting all of these kinds of flowers and little messages. 

 

It was a particular bad day for Mycroft's team and him himself when he found another one.   He hadn't seen Greg in nearly a week and was close to crying when he picked it up. It was a sunflower, or a quarter of one to fit into the space.  The card was in the bottom drawer, where his secret tumbler and cognac were, for bad cases. It had a thin layer on dust, meaning it was there for some time.  Obviously when he needed it the most.  He turned it around.

_"Love, did you know sunflowers always stare at the sun?  No matter what it is you're dealing with right now; look at the bright side and shine.  Love you."_

 

He held the card close and closed his eyes, focusing on Greg and his relationship and what it meant to him until he smiled and opened his eyes.   He placed the card back in the drawer to remind him and put away his cognac.  He'll save it for another day.

 


	80. Language

21\. Language

 

Greg eyed Mycroft as he read his book.  Greg wasn't in the mood for reading so he just watched Mycroft, who still hasn't noticed it, clearly the book is fascinating. 

Greg tried to read the book cover only to find out it's in French.  Oh that's great. 

"Something on your mind Gregory?" Mycroft’s smooth voice carried over the book towards Greg. 

"That's in French." Greg replied.

"Yes it is. I find something gets lost in translation so I prefer the original."

"Hmmm.  So exactly how many languages do you speak?" Greg asked, genuinely interested in knowing.   Mycroft closed the book and turned to Greg. 

"Beaucoup."  Mycroft answered and the effect it had on Gregory was instantaneous.  Mycroft smirked in response as he leaned over Greg.

"ça t'excite ?" Greg just closed his eyes and pulled Mycroft closer who laughed softly.

"Shut up..."

"But it has such a profound effect on you....."

"My...."

"Tu es mon un et mon tout."   Greg didn’t pay attention after that.

 

The next evening they were getting ready for bed when Mycroft stood behind Greg.

"Hey I'm almost done." Mycroft didn't reply instead he just leaned into Greg's space and whispered in his year.

"Vorrei portarti a letto." Greg whole body just melted as he sagged against Mycroft who pulled him closer so that they were standing against one another. 

"Non vedo l’ora."

Greg just moaned and turned to kiss Mycroft.  It was hard and full of lust.

"You have a way with words."

"If I knew I could seduce you with language alone I'd have you sooner."

"Romantic My."

"Non sai quanto.

 

For several weeks Mycroft would speak to Greg in a different language and Greg tried to count them all, but decided it wasn't worth it, it was much better to just enjoy the moment.

 

 


	81. I messed up

** 22\. I messed up **

The first wave hit him straight up in the face.  Sherlock stared at Greg as his eyes shot wide and the pupils dilate until the brown was mere a thin line and the black irises stared at him. 

"Lestrade?" Sherlock yelled but Greg didn't listen as he let go of the suspect that they both held as Greg tried to cuff him.  Greg let go of one of the cuffs and Sherlock had to take over the duties to cuff him.

With the suspect safely restrain Sherlock turned his attention to Greg.   Greg was looking around him with the biggest smile he could muster on his face. 

"Sheeeeerloooockkkk." He drawled out and held out his arms to hug him.

John came running over as he heard the unusual tone in Greg’s voice, it was near euphoria. 

"Greg what happened?" John asked as he stepped closer and Greg took the opportunity to hug him.

"I'm happy!" Greg retorted.  John struggled to get him off and Sherlock decided to help him which resulted that he ended up getting hugged by Greg.

"You're so good at what you do; don’t let anyone take that away okay?"  Sherlock sighed and using his free hands pushed Greg away. Greg tilted his head and swayed there in the alleyway.

"Sherlock what happened?" John asked as he tried to take in Greg’s symptoms. 

"The suspect injected him with some kind of drug.  He's way out of it."

"Out of what?" Greg asked dumbfounded while staring at something in the distance.

"What do you see?" Sherlock asked but John interrupted.

"Never mind that, Greg how do you feel?"

"With ma hands." Greg replied waving his fingers in the air then stop as he tried to shake something off his hands. 

"He can't go in like this; we'll need to take him home.  Call Mycroft and I'll talk to Sally to take the suspect in." Without waiting John walked over to Sally who was busy helping the suspect in the car, he explained what was going on while Sherlock texted Mycroft. 

 

It took them a while but in the end they were able to get Greg back at the house, Mycroft was already waiting for them and could only watch in silence as Greg talked to everything, literally everything, he had in depth discussion with the umbrella stand about Mycroft's 'fancy and ponchy accessories’ that caused John and Sherlock to burst out laughing.   There was the very private conversation with the body of armour and how it should never go on twitter to reveal the secrets of their love life - this is the part where Sherlock decided to burn down a few dishcloths in the oven and John trying to stop him. 

An hour later Greg came tumbling down the stairs with a headache and looking for water. His shirt was off and he was barefoot in his trousers.   Mycroft was on a call in the study and stood behind Greg as he spoke to Sherlock and John.

"Okay whatever happened do not tell my amazing and hot, super sexy and wonderful boyfriend with his endless legs and kissable freckles...   "

"Greg!"

"Lestrade!" They cried out at the same time. 

"That I messed up."  Sherlock looked behind Greg to where his brother was standing with Anthea and a house staff member who held a plate with food.  John tried to get Greg's attention who frowned then slowly turned around.

Mycroft just looked at Greg while Anthea and the house staff smiled appreciatively at the half naked man with his ruffled hair.

"My!" Greg tried holding out his hands.

"I can explain everything."  Greg tried very hard to ignore the giggles behind him as Mycroft sighed.  He turned to the staff.

"Please put this in containers for my brother and John.  They will unfortunately not be staying for lunch." He then turned to Anthea.

"Please reschedule the rest of my afternoon till tomorrow, I will be unavailable." With a nod she left with the staff following her to the kitchen. 

"Thank you for looking after Gregory, I’m sure you can find your way out?"

Sherlock stared at his brother before making a gagging noise and pushed John to the kitchen where they can take the food and leave. 

Greg looked like a guilty schoolboy. 

"Gregory, are you okay and well?" Greg just nodded while looking down. 

"Good. Please follow me upstairs." Without waiting Mycroft made his way upstairs.  Greg looked up the man and yelled.

"Come on, at least I called you sexy."

"Gregory." Mycroft retorted leaving no choice for Greg to climb the stairs. 

When he entered the room he saw that Mycroft was slowly undressing.

"My?"

"You called me wonderful, with endless legs and what was that? Kissable freckles.  Maybe you should show me how kissable?"

 


	82. Earpiece

** 23\. Earpiece **

Greg felt like James Bond as he sat in the crowd.   On the edge, in the second row. Mycroft was in his office but loud and clear in his ear.

Greg had to make a speech, it was the annual homicide conference and since he had such a good success rate in his division -thanks to Sherlock - he had the honour of giving a speech. 

The problem was, Greg wasn't a talk in front of people kind of man, and he hated it. According to him he just wanted to solve the murder, put the bad guy away and go home, this public speech and get together is not for him.

This year though he has a secret weapon: Mycroft.

Mycroft who decided to help him has given him an earpiece.  This said earpiece will allow him to speak to Greg and help him with his speech.  They had practice together and worked out all the little wrinkles so that in the end they had a speech that both can be proud of. 

"Don't worry; it is going to be fine."  Greg nearly jumped out of his chair when Mycroft's voice sounded in his ear.

"Relax Gregory."

"Greg pretended to cough and cleared his throat as he listened. 

"Tell me is the superintendent always so dense?" Greg closed his eyes and scratches his ear.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Greg pretended to listen attentively, just knowing Mycroft is about to say something again.

"Oh good lord, no wonder John punched him, I’d punch him, or get someone to do it, I hate legwork."

Greg tried to hide his amusement.

"New structuring to accommodate all? What has the man been smoking, better yet who wrote that piece of ludicrous garbage?"

Greg shifted in his seat and looked down.  Sally next to him has noticed that he was fidgeting and leaned over.

"Relax.  What's got into you?"

"That be me." Mycroft replied in his ear. Greg choked loudly and several head turn.  Greg held up his hand and took a sip of water from the bottle next to him.  He kept mouthing 'sorry' to everyone. 

"Sorry Gregory, seems I caught you off guard, oh well.  As they say 'my bad'." Greg quickly took out his phone and typed.

"R u enjoying this?"

"Slang Gregory, tsk tsk.... well the man is boring so I have to keep myself entertained."

Sally kept glaring at him and he shrugged and tried his best to look innocent.  She just rolled her eyes and turned to the front. 

"You know Gregory; I don’t think I told you how delightful I find you in your uniform." Greg could keep his face straight, but was defenceless when the blush spread on his face.

"I was thinking, since I'm being the perfect partner, or 'boyfriend' as the youth would say, I think you need to show me your appreciation for my help."  Greg took a breath and tapped his fingers on his trousers. 

"Yes, I think you should come by the office after the speech and we can discuss it." Greg blamed the redness on his face to the uniform, the material was thicker than his usual suit, and the jacket all buttoned up, yes, that is it."

He was still trying to get his emotions under control when Sally elbowed him...

"What?"

"It's your turn." She growled out, staring at him.  Greg eyes widen and quickly got out of the seat, making his way to the podium. 

Mycroft waited till he stood still before speaking.

"Okay detective, let’s do this...”


	83. Bunny

24\. Bunny

 

Greg smiled as he planned it, he was going to have a real Easter dinner. Mycroft pulled a face before he declared very professionally and diplomatically, “whatever you like my dearest, I’ll support you in all endeavours."

 

Greg rolled his eyes and ordered extra Lindt bunnies for the table decorations. 

 

He even ordered a grown-up version of Easter eggs filled with a variety of liqueurs.  

 

He looked at the table with pride, he set it himself, in beautiful pastel rainbow colours, he even ordered a rainbow cake, with a beautiful chocolate bunny on top, a hollow one filled with little small Easter eggs wrapped in foil. 

 

He was waiting for the comments to start and one look at the cake and he'll forget it.

 

"Oh good lord." The baritone voice of Sherlock came loud over the room. Greg smiled and turned to him.

 

"Looks great doesn't it?"

 

"Great? It looks....."

 

"Oh wonderful my dear!" Mummy interrupted as she pushed pass Sherlock to step in, Siger, Mycroft’s dad followed behind his wife, smiling broadly. 

 

"Thank you." Greg said while looking at Sherlock who rolled his eyes and sat down at the table, his eyes taking in all the details of the soft blue table cloth, the soft green serviettes and all the other decorations. He liked it but will never admit it out loud. The rest of the family followed Sherlock, with Mrs. Hudson as well. Greg insisted on a good family dinner and so he had it.

 

Mycroft for once was very impressed with the outcome of a 'family get together' and he knows it is because of Greg and John who made Sherlock came... and behave.

 

 

 

The dinner was spent with a lovely atmosphere and good conversation, and they were all impressed with the desert and most importantly the cake and chocolate bunny on top. Greg asked Sherlock to break it so the little eggs could fall out and Greg watched as Sherlock’s face lit up. 

 

It was only later when everyone had left that Mycroft told Greg, as a Holmes family they haven't had an Easter together in more than twenty years. Mummy has tried but was unsuccessful. Greg promised that he'll do anything he can to make sure it becomes a yearly tradition. 

 

 


	84. No charge

25\. No charge

Greg stared at Mycroft his nostrils flaring, his blood pressure rising to global warming levels and his nails are threatening to cut into his palm from pressure. Mycroft took all of two seconds to register that he screwed up, before replacing it with his usual scowl.

It was a joint case, and they were supposed to work together until Mycroft had a moment of either lapsing judgement or low fuel on ego boost so he pulled not only rank but did it in a truly appalling matter.

Greg tried to calm him down but Mycroft shot him down without taking into consideration that Greg is not just another spook, but actually his partner, fiancé if you want to get technical.

Greg made his face neutral before he picked up his jacket and left the office, instead of slamming the door like he wanted too, he closed it so softly they hardly heard it.

He made his way back to his office, still too angry and frustrated to get a cab so he walked, in the cold, without his gloves or scarf.

That's fine, his anger will keep him warm, halfway between the Yard and Mycroft's office, the anger gave way to hurt and frustration and unfortunately that wasn't so effective in keeping him warm.

At the office he was called into a meeting that lasted longer than originally planned. By the time he got back to his office he was tired, hungry and so many shades of angry, frustrated and irritated mixed with pain that he just wanted to crawl into his bed.

He counted the hours until he could go home and as he promised himself made a straight line to his bed. Discarding his clothes and shoes in a heap on the floor he buried himself under the duvet and gave in to self-pity. He had a fight with his fiancé, or more importantly his fiancé dismissed him in front of his colleagues, that wasn't embarrassing at all...

His phone rang.

Mycroft.

He didn't want to but had to so he answered.

"What?"

"I'd like to apologise for my behaviour today."

"Apologise away, no, Wait save it for tomorrow, you do realise there is no charge for being civil?"

"I realise I might have been..."

"Don't care, as I've said save it for tomorrow. Going to hang up now. Still love you though" without waiting for an answer he hung up.

 

If Mycroft can be rude so can he.


	85. Mixed messages

** 26\. Mixed messages **

Mycroft woke up the morning, finding Greg already gone. 

"He must've had a call out." He mumbled to himself and git ready for work.   As he entered the kitchen for his tea, there in the table was a flower, a small bouquet of forget-me-nots. Mycroft smiled and finished his routine. 

 He called Greg on his way to work to arrange for them to have dinner that evening.

"Oh I will always remember you." Mycroft said as he ended the call.  Still happy with the flowers. 

Greg on the other hand was confused where he stood at the crime scene.   He had no idea what Mycroft meant, shrugging he went on with his work. 

The week became very busy but they both understood the demands of the job and Mycroft even left the country for a while. 

When he came back they stayed in for the weekend. 

Monday morning Mycroft found another set of flowers this time it was a hyacinth with yellow carnations.  Mycroft froze as he stared at it.  Unable to concentrate.  You disappointed me and unobtrusive loneliness.  That is what the flowers mean. Oh no, Greg was angry and disappointed in him, he knew he shouldn't have gone to Morocco, but no he is smart and now Greg is angry.   That’s the only explanation for sending him these flowers, even mismatched.  He hardly got any work done and was surprised to find Greg in his doorway around lunch,  a big smile and take away in his hand.

"Hey Love."

Mycroft stared. Why is he here?

"Why are you here Gregory, I got the message loud and clear." Greg stopped smiling and walked in.

"What message?"

"Don't play smart with me, you’ll lose."

"Mycroft I'm not, what message?" Greg asked in confusion as he took out his phone and checked his messages.

"The flowers!" Mycroft yelled at him and pointed to the waste basket.  Greg confusion gave way to pain as he stared at the flowers all crumbled up and broken.  Mycroft watched the emotions and a sudden dread filled him up. Greg didn't look at him as he pocketed his phone, dropped the bag on the table and turned around to walk away.

"Gregory?" Mycroft called out but Greg ignored him.   He turned back to the flowers and remembered the forget-me -nots, it was the flowers next to their driveway, the carnations and hyacinth belongs to another neighbour down the streets. 

"Oh God." He whispered, Greg clearly didn't know that flowers had a language of their own.  Without thinking he rushed out his office, following Greg.  He reached Greg just as he was about to leave the building, Mycroft pulled him back and cornered him against the wall.

"I'm so sorry, I got the wrong expression.  Gregory I'm so sorry."

"Yeah cause flowers really give the wrong impression."

"Depending on the flowers, they have a language of their own."

Greg looked sceptical, but everything in him wants to believe him.

"I thought they were pretty and wanted you to know I'm thinking of you."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"What did they mean then?"

"Forget me nots, is remembrance, hyacinth is unobtrusive loneliness and yellow carnations means rejection and you disappointed me."

"Oh Bollocks." Greg whispered. 

"No wonder you’re angry."

"I'm sorry." Mycroft whispered again as he continue his tight hold on Greg.  Greg was glad it was all a misunderstanding.

"I didn't mean to give you mixed messages."

"It's okay, I'm just glad it's sorted." Mycroft replied relief flooding his system.  Greg gave a nervous laugh.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.  Next time I'll make sure it gives the right meaning."

"I'll teach you

"No. I'll just surprise you."

 


	86. Delicious

27\. Delicious

 

Mycroft stood straight, his fingers double checking his waistcoat buttons, making sure it was still buttoned.  Greg smiled.

“You look fine.”

Mycroft pouted as he turned to Greg.

“Gregory, we are surrounded by couples and…and cake…”

Greg smirked and looked around, holding  out his arms.

“Yes, couples and cake, it is a good thing since we are here for a cake tasting session.  You know a wedding cake for our wedding?  Ring any bells?”  Mycroft rolled his eyes. 

“I know, I just didn’t imagine it like this.”  Sensing something is amiss, he walked towards his fiancé.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“I never imagined that I would be able to walk into a place like this, with someone who would actually be happy to marry someone like me, and we can be open about our relationship.”  Mycroft looked around before his eyes focused on Greg.  Greg took his hand and kissed his palm before his fingers played around the ring.

“I feel exactly the same way, the whole idea that something so amazing as you would want to marry someone like me, and if I could kiss you right here in front of everyone I would, but I know it is not something you like so I am just going to say, that today is amazing and it is a wonderful experience for both of us.” Mycroft smiled shyly and squeezed Greg’s hand.

“Shall we do this then?”  Mycroft asked as he indicated around them.  Greg nodded.

“We shall.  I think we should start with the chocolate cake.”

“You always go for chocolate first.” 

“I love chocolate. You want the vanilla.”

“I am willing to try anything.”

“Good because that is why we are here. To eat as much delicious cake as possible, I skipped lunch for this.” Mycroft looked affronted then sighed, it was so typical of Greg, then again, he had a small lunch as to curb some temptation.

They walked to the front desk and Greg looked at the girl.

“Cake tasting for Mycroft-Lestrade wedding?”   She looked in her books and smiled.

“Lets get started, do you have a specific flavor in mind?”

“Chocolate.”  Mycroft replied the exact same time Greg said “Vanilla”  they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“I think….” Greg started and Mycroft finished.

“That we are open to anything.”

 


	87. Cold blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Daynaan for helping me with a few prompts. This one is one of them...

28.cold blue

 

It was another meeting, this time it was huge as the Yard and MI5 have to work together, a joint operation.  Greg is of course the liaison, because he can handle diplomacy, he had to, years of dealing with Sherlock and Mycroft improved his skills to be smoother than a diamond.

They were sitting in some office, some of Greg’s team at his side and opposite him, the spooks.  Mycroft was sitting in front of him and Sherlock was standing in the corner.  At the head of the table was some politician, high up and he was conducting the meeting, he may act like the big cheese but Greg knew, that Mycroft is the real brains behind this operation.

The meeting has been going on for about an hour now, and it was halfway done when he noticed something.  At first he thought it was his imagination, so he paid closer attention.  Then it happened a second time.  Every time Mycroft would talk to the politician or his brother or any other person in the room, his eyes were cold as ice, the focus intent, but in the moments when he is quiet and looking at Greg, the cold blue would turn into a warm blue sky, and only for the briefest of moment before he would look down or to the MP.  No one knew that they have been secretly dating for about five months now, and they haven’t really talked about going public with this, and this isn’t the moment, but Greg wouldn’t and couldn’t deny that for this moment, when Mycroft looks at him, and the change in his eyes is so beautiful that it warms his heart enough to light up the whole of London.


	88. Lips touch

 

**29\. Lips touch**

It was strange, Sherlock decided to drive back to the station with Greg in his car, usually he would opted for a cab, refusing to drive in a police car, but Greg didn’t mind.  The company would be nice.  The crime scene was close to Wimbledon, so it would be a while before they would get back to the station.  The ride was so far silent the radio playing songs, but Greg knew Sherlock had something on his mind.  He wouldn’t just voluntary drive with him, unless he had something to say.  The question is, does he wait, or does he start to get Sherlock to be comfortable enough to talk?

He decided to wait and when the radio played a song he liked he started singing along.  Sherlock looked at him, but Greg ignored him and went on. 

“How do you know?”   Sherlock blurted out.  Greg stopped singing and lowered the volume.

“know what?” He asked and made a point to look forward, to give Sherlock the time to compose his sentence without feeling that he was watched.

“That you and Mycroft’s alliance would last?”

“Relationship, were not in an alliance, we are in a relationship.  And as for your question, you don’t, you never knew for a hundred percent,  all those times in the movies and songs and books saying you just knew, its just that, movies, songs and books.  Any relationship has the potential to make it the long haul, but it takes commitment and trust and giving it a 100% every step of the way, you cant go into a relationship, thinking that the other person is going to complete you, or change you, because ten years down the line and it is the ‘you’re not the same person I met’ which is obvious.  You grew, a person shouldn’t complete you, he or she should enhance you, take the person you are, and bring out the best and enhancing and changing that for the better.  It doesn’t happen overnight, it takes time, going through stuff, now me and Mycroft came a long way, and we danced around each other for years now, ever since I met you.”

“You used to fight a lot.”  Greg chuckled as he remembered the past few years.  Sherlock rolled his eyes at the open display of affection, truth is, he never saw it in Greg’s eyes when he talked about his wife.  He looked at Greg.

“But somehow you both know that it is forever.”  Greg pulled of the street and stopped on the sidewalk.

“Yes.  I do know that, so does Mycroft.”  It was quiet for a moment when Greg slowly spoke again.

“Sherlock, sometimes when you are lucky enough, blessed enough or fortunate enough you will meet one person, and that person is going to set your soul on fire, he or she is going to make everything else in comparison seems small and inadequate.  And you know, you will never, ever be the same again, regardless of what happen.”

Sherlock looked at him, his face open and eyes sincere.

“And you are that for Mycroft.’

“He is that for me.  I’ll tell you one thing though, I always knew he was special and worth it, but the first time we kissed, that moment our lips touched, I tasted it, I tasted forever, and lets leave our cards on the table, one day when you meet someone and kiss that person you would taste it too.”

They haven’t spoken about it again, and Greg didn’t ask questions and neither did Sherlock until two years later.  He woke up in the middle of the night, his phone beeped.

Picking up his phone he looked at the message. “Bloody hell, he did it, the man did it.”  He whispered.  Mycroft woke up and switched the light on.  

“Gregory?”  He asked and Greg looked as if he wanted to cry.  He looked at Mycroft and handed him the phone.  Mycroft looked at Greg’s phone, reading the message he turned to Greg, his eyes filling with tears.  They smiled and kissed each other as the looked at the message again.

_“You were right.  I just tasted forever. SH”_

__


	89. Crosshairs

30\. Crosshairs

Greg discovered a hobby, actually he won a camera in a raffle at work, and after he looked it up on the web, found it to be quite some decent quality and now in his free time he would take pictures of what interest him.  Turns out what interest him is football and Mycroft.  The football did mind so much, however Mycroft on the other hand minded a little, in fact he minded a lot.

“Why don’t you like it?  Do you have any idea how amazing you look?”  Mycroft scoffed and Greg figured it out.   He leaned closer to Mycroft laying on the bed.

“You don’t think you are beautiful enough?”

“Gregory…lets face it, I am not really the material of models, you on the other hand…”

“Well I think you are wrong, I think you are beautiful and magnificent and we are going to have regular photoshoots and I will capture that beauty.”

Mycroft smiled softly as he pulled Greg close.

“My beauty?  Well I consider my beauty, you so you should take photos of yourself.”

“Ha ha funny, don’t you worry, you are in the crosshairs of my camera, and I don’t care if it takes thousand of photos, I will convince you on how wonderful you really are.”

Mycroft sighed as if he just got sentenced to a year in some sort of community service with old knitting ladies.  Greg found it extremely funny.

“Gregory.”

Greg just laughed and kissed Mycroft.

 


	90. Dr.

31\. Dr.

 

Greg run down the aisle to get to the correct office,  it was a very important doctor's appointment that he promised to be there.  For Mycroft.  It is something they decided on together and something that needs to be done together. 

This was the beginning,  the first step in becoming parents. 

They've been married for a while now and decided it was time to expand the little Mycroft-Lestrade family. They were beyond excited not to mention the parents or grandparents if everything goes well.   It took al lot of convincing to keep Mummy from starting to buy baby clothes.   The compromise was that if everything was a success and they know the gender can she start. 

Greg checked his watch and realized he was already five minutes late.

"Bollocks." He kept his pace until he reached the door before he stopped fixed his clothing and went in.

Mycroft was sitting in the waiting area,  legs crossed and typing on his phone. 

"My." Greg greeted as he made his way to Mycroft.  Mycroft smiled broadly and waited till Greg was sitting before he squeezed his hand.

"You should be careful running down these corridors,  the polished floors are slippery."

"I was running a bit late,  speaking of which,  shouldn't we have gone in by now?"

"You were late so I switched with the couple before us, they're in now, and we'll go in their spot."

"Oh that's great.  Thanks." Greg looked around them before turning back to Mycroft.

"We are actually doing this." Mycroft mirrored Greg's smile. 

"Yes we are."

"I can't wait,  you are going to be so amazing."

"We are."

"Yes. We are. Oh they're going to be spoiled rotten,  I hope they are sassy enough to take Sherlock on, you’re brains,  those blue eyes, oh...."

"They're?  They?" Mycroft interrupted his face all smiling.

"Yup, imagine two."

"Twins?" Mycroft asked with surprise.  Greg smiled wider and nodded.

 


	91. Calender

** 1\. Calendar ** ** **

 

Ever since Greg and Mycroft had started dating, Greg had opened up a new side of Mycroft, a side that would smile when someone makes him smiley pancakes when that someone thinks that Mycroft needs cheering up.  A man who would - if he has a moment and is not bombarded by cases, long hours and little brothers would run him a bath.  A man who loved him and showed him that it is okay to let someone in. 

Let’s take this moment, this moment in time.  It is a beautiful day, nothing special just a normal day.  There was no parade or riot somewhere, no public holiday or festival.  No celebrations or anything like that.

No, Mycroft came home, the smell of lasagna drifting through the house, leading him to home and the man he loves.  Mycroft walked to the kitchen, with every step his stress and worry melt away into the rug.  Entering the kitchen he stopped in the doorway, Greg was barefoot in his work clothes, he took of his shirt, and was standing in his undershirt as he made dinner, his back was to Mycroft and he smiled.  Yes, this man is remarkable.

“Gregory.”  Greg jumped around smiling.

“Didn’t expect you for another ten minutes.  How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home.”  Mycroft replied as he walked over to greet him.  Greg gave him an infectious smile.

“Know the feeling, come on dinner is ready and I have a surprise for you.”

“What?”  Greg pointed with his head toward the counter.  Mycroft looked at it,

“May I?” Greg nodded and Mycroft walked over to the counter and picked up the packaged, it was a bit heavy and when he opened it, he frowned, it was a calendar.  Opening it, he found a lump in his throat, Greg had taken some old pictures of them, some was of Mycroft and his family, Mycroft and Sherlock and the two of them.  It was amazing and beautiful, the picture was surrounded by a frame and some had a quote or a sentence. 

Mycroft was so in thought that he didn’t notice that Greg stood behind him wrapping his arms around him.

“Love you.”

“I love you too Greg...my dearest.”


	92. The ruler of

** 2\. The ruler of.... ** ** **

 

Greg looked at the phone; the call went unanswered, again.  With a long suffering sigh he stood up from his seat and shut down the laptop and made his way to the kitchen.  He looked at the table all set with the wine glasses and candles.  Another dinner missed.

He made his way to the stove and switched on the oven on low; he took the casserole and put it in the oven to stay warm.  Switching of the kitchen lights he made his way upstairs, he might as well have long bath.

Mycroft saw the missed calls and no messages.  With some heaviness he made his way home.  Once home he saw the lights off, when he switched the kitchen lights on, he his heart dropped even more he walked over to the oven and looked inside.  A homemade casserole, from the open book on the counter Greg tried a new recipe. 

He made his way upstairs, ready to explain and begging for forgiveness.  Walking into their room he saw the bathroom light on. Greg loves the bath.  He made his way to the bathroom; Greg was soaking his head turned to Mycroft as he watches Mycroft undress.

“Hey.”  Greg sounded tired, but not angry, just a little sad.  Mycroft decided it was worse.

“I’m sorry I was in a meeting, I didn’t mean for it to go so long.”  Greg waved it away as he climbed out the bathtub.  Mycroft wanted to stop him, but the view was spectacular.

“Its okay, I understand.  You are a busy man, I am a busy man, and things happen there’s dinner in the oven.” 

“I saw that.  The meeting was with the Queen.”

“That is a very good reason to miss dinner.” Greg replied and made his way over to Mycroft. 

“She really is the ruler of it all, isn’t she?”  Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“Well not everything.”

Greg widens his eyes in mock surprise.

“No, tell me, what escape her mighty reign?”

“My heart.”  Mycroft replied as he pulled Greg closer by the belt cord.  

“So who exactly rules that...?”

“Oh some grey haired Arsenal fan, standing naked in my room.”

“I’m not naked.”  Greg retorted.  Mycroft narrowed his eyes and with a swift move ripped the gown off.

“My bad.  There I corrected it.” 

Greg leaned closer to Mycroft.

“I think the king need some love tonight.”

“As you wish.”

 

 


	93. What a hunk

** 3\. What a hunk ** ** **

Greg’s smile was contagious as he waited.  Mycroft’s cup of tea was in front of his lips, luckily he hasn’t taken a sip, as he was sure he would’ve spilled it.

“Truth or dare?” He asked, lowering the cup as to prepare for the onslaught, that smirk was lethal. 

“Yup, I have never played that with you, and I seriously want to rattle your cage.”  Greg replied and eased back on the sofa.

“So you want to play truth and dare with me?”  Seeing Greg nodding with his eyes sparkling and a nod and sighed in defeat.

“Okay, do you start or me?”  Greg raised his fist in victory. 

“You can start.” 

“Thank you for the permission.”  Mycroft replied and turned thoughtful for a moment.

“Truth or dare?”  Greg’s smiled turned wicked.

“Dealers’ choice.”  It is most decidedly impossible for one man to be so incorrigible.

“I dare you to....”  Mycroft faltered for a moment, the thing was he should’ve gone for truth, because after careful consideration there isn’t much he can dare Greg to do, because he will.  Apparently from Greg’s smile, he knew it too. 

“To kiss you in front of your brother, because it would be my honor, jump your bones in broad daylight, I would...”

“I figured as much.” Mycroft surrender. 

“My turn?”  Greg asked, and Mycroft just nodded.

“Truth or dare?”  Mycroft gave it some serious thought, he cant really asked for ‘dare’ as it Greg pretty much would ask anything and he is not sure if he can do that, as always he plans ahead.

“Truth.”  He finally relented.  In reflect he may have gone for dare as truth is just as broad, and there’s nothing he can’t deny, when he specifically asked for truth.

“What was the very first thought when you met me?”  Mycroft look up in surprise.

“What?”

“The very first thought, the one that shot in your head, that millisecond before you got all posh and mask-ey on yourself.”  Mycroft remember that day as if it was yesterday, in very rare moments he would think about that, and allow himself a small smile, just as he was now.  Greg smiled seeing the smile and stood Mycroft tilted his head as Greg moved to sit on his lap, straddling his partner.  Mycroft pulled Greg close as he kissed him.  After coming up for air, Greg turned to him.

“Kissing me won’t get you out from answering.”

“Gregory...”

“Come on, it certainly put a smile on your face.”  A blush spread on his face.

“It is a bit embarrassing.”

“Oh, now I really have to know.” 

“Of course you do.”

Greg leaned back but Mycroft held him in place.

“You do not get to keep this against me, nor mention it ever again.”  Greg crossed his finger and made a ‘zip it’ move across his mouth.  Mycroft pulled Greg closer and bit his lower earlobe before whispering.

“My first thought was, what a hunk, and then I went all posh as you would say.”  Greg leaned back and placed his hand Mycroft’s cheeks.

“Why would I make fun of that?  That’s so hot.”  With that statement he leaned back in and kissed Mycroft.

 


	94. Shallow

** 4\. Shallow ** ** **

The private jet landed in Sandown, just after three on the Friday, the sun shining bright on the Isle of Wight airport.  One man climbed out of the plane, his bag in his hand and made his way to outside. ** **

Anthea was waiting for him at the main gate, her hands on her Blackberry.  As he arrived she put it down and looked at him.

“Your car is waiting; I won’t be joining as I need to get back to the conference.  Oh and this is for you.”  She handed him an envelope, his name written on with Mycroft beautiful handwriting.

“Where is he?”  Greg’s voice was tired; he wasn’t in the mood for much talking.

“Busy.  Enjoy your weekend.”  Without a second glance she turned around and got into another car.  He watched as the car drove off then got into his, the envelope in his pocket; he didn’t feel like reading it now.

The letter burnt in his pocket all the way to the hotel, but he didn’t read it, it wasn’t the right time.

Once at the hotel he checked in, and settled into his room.  The hotel was small, yet comfortable and fully equips to deal with anything.  It was situated near the famous Sandown beach, as always Anthea knew how he would feel out of place at big fancy hotels Mycroft and his staff usually use, and this was perfect for him.  He felt right at home.  Opening his windows he was tired and stressed but the beach looked inviting, so he took a quick shower, changed into some comfortable casual clothes, his old trusted jeans, sneakers and jumper with a t-shirt. 

He was right, the beach and waved calmed him down, the smell of the ocean was wonderful and he took of his shoes and socks, rolled up his jeans and walked. It was relaxing and he enjoyed it, the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows as he walked.  Being barefoot allowed him to walk in the shallow water, the salt water washing over his feet as the waves washed over his feet.  The letter still burnt in his pocket and he made his way deeper on to the beach to the edge.  If the tide comes in he will still be dry.  Sitting down he took out the letter and opened it.

_ My dearest. _

_ I have to beg you for your pardon once again.  I know I did not leave the previous night without finishing our discussion, nor let the air between us were clear. It was a cowardice movement on my behalf not to stop by your apartment to see you, and talk to you in person.  The thing is, I deliberately avoided it, because for the first time in my life I couldn’t find the right words to express my regret. _

_ I have learned in my lift to take nothing for granted, most certainly someone like you. I know a relationship must be built on trust.  I know you are an honorable man and would never submit yourself to adultery, however when I became aware that your ex-wife was in your apartment last night with you, I became insanely jealous.  Jealous that you got to spend the major part of your life with her, and not me.  You are a good man, better than all of us, and I knew she was there to claim yet another of your dear possessions, and to keep the peace you didn’t fought it. _

_   _

Greg was so entranced in the letter that he never saw the man walking towards him and stopped when he was about five meters away.  When he spoke his voice was hesitant, slightly trembling.

“I think you should leave her the apartment and everything in it and move in with me.  I can give you everything you need, replace every painting you want I just don’t want to be alone anymore; I don’t want to spend my life...alone...anymore.”

Greg stopped reading and turned around to see Mycroft standing there, as he talks he slowly got up and walked towards him, a smile on his face.

“Yeah?”  Mycroft just nodded, looking very unsure.  Greg took his hands.

“I would love to move in with you, and she can take everything she wants, as long as I have you, My, my biggest treasure.”  Mycroft face lit up and leaned closer, kissing Greg.  When they parted they turned to walk back to the hotel.  Hand in hand. 

If either notice that they were literally walking into the sunset, neither said anything.


	95. Rose

** 5\. Rose ** ** **

This has been going for months now, nearly a year and they still haven’t told each other how exactly they feel about one another, they know it was real, they know they love one another but they haven’t actually said those words to each other.  Mycroft shifted against Greg, they were both half asleep.  That was another thing he thought he would never get used to, the fact that he was in Greg’s arms, most nights of the weeks, most weeks of the month and so far most months this year.  It was brilliant.

Greg was holding him close, his hands on his back and right now making patterns with his fingers on his back, it was so relaxing and wonderful.  He laid there for a few moments until his brain switched on and made sense of the patterns.  It wasn’t patterns, no Greg was writing love notes, specifically the words I love you, or more correctly, the word ‘I’ the symbol of a heart and ‘u’.  Greg may not have come out and say it, but he was the first to show it, to say it through his actions.  Or spelt it more importantly. 

Mycroft wanted to say something, to show he understands but by the time he lifted his head to look at Greg, Greg was fast asleep.  His fingers in the middle of another heart when it slacked and rested on his lower back.  Mycroft smiled. He has a plan.

Mycroft was up before Greg and took a shower, by the time Greg was awake, and Mycroft was half dressed and made the coffee.  He stood in the doorway, waiting for Greg, to see his reaction.  Greg got out of the shower the towel around his waist, the entire room in steam.  Except the parts of the mirror where the words ‘I’, a heart, the letter ‘u’ and a drawing of rose underneath it.  Greg stared and turned around when Mycroft stepped in. 

“I love you.”  They said simultaneously before they broke out in laughter.  It was a beautiful day.


	96. Of mice and men

** 6\. Of mice and men ** ** **

The week was long and arduous and Mycroft was extremely glad when his plane landed back on UK soil, it was wonderful to be home, he would not normally be so happy to be home, however ever since he had something to come home to, that feelings had changed.

That happy feeling to be home changed the movement he entered his home, his senses were on high alert, there wasn’t a break in, he would’ve known, in fact the place looked clean.  Too clean.  As if nobody lived here for the past week.  That was strange since Mycroft knew he wasn’t the only man living in this house.  Greg lives here too, but there is no sign, that Greg was here.  There was evidence that he changed and ate, but very little. 

He hadn’t seen Greg since the morning he left; he was busy packing the last of his things when Greg got the call out.  There was a case, the serial killer was back, Greg dressed in a hurry and run out the door, when he stopped ran back and kissed Mycroft as if his life depended on it. 

“A week right?”  Greg asked between kisses. 

“Yes.” Mycroft answered as he held Greg close.

“And you said no calls, texts or emails?”

“Unfortunately not.  You can send, but I won’t have time to read it or reply. In fact I won’t even get until the week is over. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it is not your fault, I will probably be busy with this case so ill see you when you get back.  I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That was a week ago and he wanted to see Greg, hold him.  He walked to the fridge and opened it, he narrowed his eyes as a deep frown showed on his forehead.  The fridge was empty, no take-away, nothing.  From the disinfecting smell, the milk had gone off, and his staff had cleaned the fridge.  Making his mind up, he grabbed his phone.  Greg picked up on the third ring.   He was shocked by the tired, defeated voice that answered.”

“Hi Love, are you on your way home?”

“I just arrived the house and fridge is empty it is five in the morning, where are you?”  Mycroft tried to keep the worry out of his voice.  The sigh that escaped his partner didn’t pass him by.

“I couldn’t sleep, thought I might as well do some work.  Sorry, can I meet you for lunch?”  Mycroft straightened his back, this won’t do.

“Gregory, you are a bad liar on a good day, and since you obviously had a very bad week, it is even worse.  I will pick you up at 12:00; arrange to have the afternoon off.”

“Okay.”  Greg’s voice was tired, laced with frustration, exhaustion and a hint of defeat that Mycroft instantly hated. 

Greg knew he was a bad liar, and he knew Mycroft wouldn’t like how he looked at the moment, yes, he spent the majority of the week with this case, sleeping on the sofa in his office, living on coffee and vending machine food, he did buy a sandwich at a shop, but can’t remember what was the filing.  He only went home to change and that was every second day, he would change and take a spare set with him for one day.  Not ideal, but it was what he needed to do. 

They did close the case the day before and yesterday was basically spending the time, with paperwork, crossing the ‘t’s and dotting the ‘i’s.  He wanted to go home, the case was over and he could relax, but he couldn’t, the rush and survival instinct of the fast week was still in his blood slowing down, but not fast enough.  He was heading for a crash, but when exactly he wouldn’t be able to say.  The moments he did try to sleep was plagued by nightmares.

When the black car stopped in front of the Yard at 12, Mycroft decided to step out of the car and wait for him outside.  When Greg stepped out of the building Mycroft nearly fell over in shock.  The man that was walking toward him looked like everything but his vibrant Gregory.   He didn’t dare to voice his thoughts and just opened his arms.  Greg melted into him as they hugged. When they parted Mycroft took Greg’s hand and led him into the car, keeping their hands locked as they drove home.

When they stepped into the house Mycroft turned to Greg. 

“Go take a long shower and put on your most comfortable clothes, ill arrange some tea and lunch.”  Greg didn’t even fight back; he just nodded and made his way upstairs. Mycroft made his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, he arranged lunch earlier so he just took it out, while the kettle boiled he took out his phone and read on the case.  It was difficult, a very hard case that shook London, and will be the source of nightmares for many people involved.  The killer was a homophobic that killed young boys, all gay, his son, only child and heir to the company, told him he was gay.  They were tortured and killed slowly and very painfully.  Mycroft closed his eyes and sighed.

“Oh my dearest.”

With the lunch ready and the tea prepared Greg joined him on the sofa; he was wearing his tracksuit trousers, loose and comfortable with a old t shirt.   By the time they were finish Greg was dead on his feet, Mycroft sat back on the sofa and indicated that Greg must lay down, resting his head on Mycroft’s lap.  Greg was hesitant.

“Gregory, what is wrong, I know you are devastated, it was a hard case, it was finished two days ago, why haven’t you taken a break earlier?”

“I couldn’t sleep, and it was lonely without you, but it wasn’t your fault, I just didn’t want to be alone, so I slept at the office, doing paperwork also I was just running on adrenalin and....I cant sleep My.”  Greg finished as he looked down in shame. Mycroft sighed and pulled him closer, Greg went willingly in his arm.

“You keep seeing the faces of those boys?”  Mycroft softly asked.  Greg just nodded.

Mycroft knew Greg needed to get some sleep, so he picked up a book.

“How about I read and you try to relax, see if you can fall asleep?”

Greg just nodded and leaned back on the sofa, his head resting on Mycroft’s lap.  Opening the book he put on some classical music in the background and started reading.  It was Steinbeck, ‘Of mice and men.’

_ George’s voice became deeper.  He repeated his words rhythmically as thought he had said them many times before.  ‘Guys like us that work on ranches are the loneliest guys in the world.  They got no family. They don’t belong no place.  They come to a ranch an’ work up a stake, and the first thing you know, they’re poundin’ their tail on some other ranch.  They aint got nothing to look ahead to...” _

_   _

Mycroft turned to Greg who was already fast asleep, his breathing even and deep.  Mycroft smiled and put the book down; leaning back against the sofa he closed his eyes.  He will make sure that he is more available in the future when there are cases like this.

 


	97. Strapped

** 7\. Strapped ** ** **

It happened by accident Mycroft discovered an anomaly in Greg’s account.  After some research and investigation he found out, that Greg still has to pay her as well as her lawyer for the divorce.  Not only did she practically take him to the cleaners that even now, years later he still has to pay.  Mycroft was furious, his first instinct was to arrange for her to disappear, but that might cause unnecessary attention towards Greg, he would be the prime suspect. 

So he had to think about this, try diplomacy and whatever comes after the idea of social etiquette.  After some thought he came to a conclusion, he made a few calls and set in the necessary procedures and documents.   He was tired that Greg had to keep struggled to survive, strapped for cash, always stretching his hard earned money to make it.  No more.

That afternoon he made his way over to her new home, the one she and her PE teacher is living now, and from the neighborhood and the car in the driveway, she was doing well.  A new sense of hatred flared up in his insides for her.  How dare she ruin a good man like Gregory and then sleep in this house with a peaceful mind. 

Squaring his back he made his way up the driveway, and knocked.  It was the PE Teacher.

“Can I help you?”  Mycroft took a few second before he replied.

“I would like to speak to Ms. Lestrade, now Ms. Adderly.”  Fitting name he thought, she is a real viper.

“And you are?” 

‘Oh so many things’, yet he was a professional and would keep his composure.

“I’m Mycroft Holmes. The fiancé of Gregory Lestrade and I am here to tell you that he would no longer pay anything.”

“Listen here.”  The teacher dared to talk back.  Mycroft stepped closer.

“I want to speak to the Ms. Adderly, and I do not have time to speak to man who, let’s be honest, is already bored with his life and texting another unexpected mother, so unless you want me to share that, I suggest you get that woman right now.” 

“Wait here.”  The man stumbled over his feet and three minutes later the women appeared.  This is the first time he has come face to face with the women who broke Greg’s heart. She looked him up and down.

“You are Greg’s fiancé, no offense but you don’t look like his type.”

“And what is his type, cheating women?”  Her face flushed in anger.

“How dare you?”

Mycroft stepped closer.

“Shut up. I do not have time for this.  You’re too beneath me to care. I’ll make this quick.”  He handed her some documents.

“You will read this, and if you know what is good for you, you will sign.  There’s a number on the last page, mine.  Call me when you grew a brain.”   Without waiting for an answer he turned around and left.

 


	98. He had wings

** 8\. He had wings ** ** **

Sherlock knew his brother was seeing someone, and he has been trying to figure out for weeks who it is.  So far no luck.  What he did know, was that his brother was happier than he had seen him in long time.  The biggest give away was his tie and handkerchief.  It was these days mostly silver with patterns in green, brown, gold or blue. 

Even Greg seemed happier and that annoyed him further.  He needed to know what was going on, and who is seeing who. 

Well today is the day.  There is an overlapping case with the Department of Transport, so Sherlock had to talk to his brother.  This is where he was now, in Mycroft’s office, but big brother wasn’t here.  John stood to the side he was always a bit uncomfortable when he has to be at Mycroft’s office. 

The door opened and Mycroft stepped in, Sherlock openly stared, his brother’s tie was askew and his hair a bit disheveled.  Clearing his throat he turned to them.

“Apologies for being late, I had to take care of a pressing need.”  Sherlock frowned but before he could say anything Greg stepped in, even more disheveled.  Sherlock relaxed, that was nothing new.  Greg mostly looks a bit worse for wear when on a case. 

They talked about the case and got the necessary information when Sherlock stood up, time to humiliate his brother a bit.

“So exactly what was the pressing need you had to take care off?”  Greg smirked and looked at Mycroft.  Mycroft gave him a small nod.  Greg turned to them.

“Me.  I was the pressing need.”  Sherlock’s mouth fall open and John choked on air.  Sherlock turned to his brother to retaliate when he noticed Mycroft expressing as he looked at Greg, it was fond exasperation, and his eyes were soft and his smile more real than the ginger nut biscuits on the table. 

Everything he wanted to say died on his lips and he thought that if he had wings, he would fly away from this open display of affection.  It was nauseating to watch.  He needed something solid and turned to John who was still staring at them with confusion. Well if John didn’t understand this, how on earth is Sherlock supposed to?  With a dramatic coat swirl he turned around to leave, John already following him. 

At the door he turned around to see Mycroft was holding Greg’s hand, his face still contorted in a smile.

“Eeuhg” He exclaimed as he made his way out.

 


	99. Got shelved

** 9\. Got shelved ** ** **

Greg eyed the boxes stack in his living room, all neatly piled and labelled.  Most of the furniture was donated to a charity foundation, except the pieces he really wanted to keep.  There wasn’t much.  The flat was bare.  It was time for a new start, a new life, with Mycroft and they were moving in together, a new house a new life.   It made sense that he let go of his lease and apartment as it doesn’t make sense to pay for something when he doesn’t use it.   It is essentially just a big storage area for his possessions.   Standing up from the floor he stretched his back and muscles, he really should stop sitting on the floor so much.  The happiness for their new life was vibrating through his body; he couldn’t wait to get started. 

He walked through the flat, double checking to make sure all the cupboards and shelves were empty.  As he left the bedroom his eyes caught something in the mirror, turning around he looked up to the top shelf, there was something there, in the back.  Reaching out he pulled it out, it was an album, and dust had settled and made the white cover into a brown one.  He sighed.  He knew what this was.  It was his wedding album.  It was so long ago, opening the cover he looked at the photos, the people staring back at him.  They were all so different back then.   He closed the album.  It was the past and he didn’t want anything from his past to spoil his future.   he walked back to the living room, in the corner was the small heap of rubbish and stuff that needed to be thrown away.  With one glance at the album he threw it on top. 

“All done?”  Greg turned around the see Mycroft in the doorway.  He smiled.

“Yes, these can go, and this pile can be thrown out.  Oh, I need to go to the bathroom before we go. Be right back.”  Greg went to the bathroom and Mycroft waited until he saw the album.  Glancing to the bathroom he made his way over and picked it up. 

“Greg, what’s this?”  Mycroft asked as Greg came back in. 

“Oh, it is my wedding album, it got shelved some years ago, and I forgot about it.”

“I can see that, I mean, why did you throw it away?”  Mycroft asked and opened the cover, his eyes widen as he saw a photo of young Greg in his tux.  He looked good.

“Because, it was the past, and it is over and I don’t need it, nor want it in our new home.”  Mycroft turned around.

“Gregory, are you sure?”

Greg nodded.  Mycroft could understand that, it was mostly her family.  He turned to Greg to see him putting on his jacket to leave, Mycroft quickly removed one photo, the one with Greg in his tux, smiling at the camera, and hid it before Greg could see.  Closing the album he put it on the trash heap and took Greg’s hand as they walked out.

 


	100. I want a new phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning!  
> Here we are chapter 100, feels like yesterday I started with this.  
> Anyway have a lovely day.  
> Ps.I have a lovely friend who would love to translate certain pieces and fics, so stay tuned.

** 10\. I want a new phone  ** ** **

The box was under his arm, tight as Mycroft walked with the package down the corridor.  As always his brother reckless antics got both him and Detective Inspector Lestrade a free swim in the Thames.  He was alerted and gave Anthea the orders to make sure it does not become a media spectacle.

At the door he squared his shoulders and reminded himself that he is grown man, a powerful man and he does not need to settle for his brother’s bickering that is soon to follow.  He opened the door.

“Hello brother mine.”  The figure in the bed turned to him.

“Not your brother, we switched rooms at the last minute.  Hey.”  Greg greeted him, half naked with a blanket around him.  Mycroft swallowed. Of course they did, and now he looks like an idiot.

“Detective Inspector, I didn’t realize my apologies.”  Mycroft tried to look everywhere except at the man – half naked – in front of him, his hair was standing wildly in every direction.

“It’s okay, promise me some chocolates and flowers and I might forgive you.”  Greg teased.  Mycroft blushed.

“I don’t have those.  I do have a new phone, you surely lost yours.”  Mycroft tried and held out the box.  Greg smiled wickedly.

“Yes, I want a new phone, thank you; did you replace my contacts too?”  Greg asked as he took the box and opened it, the blanket slid down his shoulders and Mycroft had to use all his willpower not to openly stare.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“And the calendar update?”  Greg asked staring at Mycroft, his eyes devilish and the smirk wide.

“Excuse me?” 

“For our first date?”

“Our...the....what...?”

“Date, if I’m getting a new phone, we must have a dinner so I can say thank you, or you can thank me...”  The flirtation was there, the implications clear and the blush on Mycroft’s face undeniable.”

“Detective...”

“I prefer Greg.”

“Gregory.”

“Better, so the date?” 

Mycroft narrowed his eyes and gave in, he took the phone out of Greg’s hand, typed in and handed it back.  Greg looked down to see it was for tomorrow, at seven.  He smiled.

“Brilliant. Oh I only kiss on the second date, so shall we have lunch so tomorrow can be the second date?”  

Mycroft stared and sighed, he took out his phone.

“Anthea, I'll be having lunch in Ward 5, room 7. Bring enough for two.  Oh and add chocolates.”

 


	101. Hustle

** 11\. Hustle **

Greg eyed Mycroft from across the floor, the plan was simple, Mycroft keep the suspect busy with some political mumbo jumbo and Sherlock and he get the documents out of the safe.  

The suspect Mr. Michael Collings was suspected of international arms dealing through a very unreliable source.  To keep the investigation low key, Mycroft asked for Sherlock and Greg to help, no ties to the government.  Sherlock came up with the plan; Mycroft gets them in at a private gala that Collins held at his house.  Sherlock and Greg would get themselves on the good old fashioned part of the catering list, to get access.  Mycroft distracts him and do is usual thing while Sherlock and Greg would break into the safe.  If possible, even plant some cameras. 

Greg didn’t really wanted to do this, it is above his job and idea and job description, but they convinced him.  In the end he relented but Sherlock had to teach him so basic hustle moves or skills, like taking an access card, planting cameras discreetly and so forth. 

One thing Sherlock didn’t count on was the amount of ogling Greg would do, when he saw his brother. 

“Can you stop staring at my brother and focused on your work?”  Sherlock whispered in his ear piece.  Greg rolled his eyes and smiled at the lady who placed her empty glass on his tray.  As he turned he whispered.

“Carrying glasses to checking him out, no thank you, did you see that tux?  Bloody hell, your brother makes a suit look good.” 

“Stop staring at my brother’s suit.”

“I wasn’t, I was staring at what was underneath the suit.”  Greg retorted and to his surprise Mycroft cough in his glass, smiling he pretended he pointed to the glass, his neck was red and he looked a little flush in the soft overhead lights.   Greg’s eyes widen in realization, he can hear their entire conversation.  He cleared his throat.

“So, we meet up at the end of the hall in five minutes?” 

“If you can stop staring long enough to watch the time.” 

Greg didn’t reply, he sighed, and he just has to try his best.  He glanced back at Mycroft before leaving the hallway, hell he can’t wait to get him home.


	102. He hated quotes

** 12\. He hated quotes **

Greg watched Mycroft’s face as he read the newspaper, it was usually with a straight face, after all he knows most of the content anyhow, except the lotto results or the amount of cats the single woman in Kent decided to buy at once for charity, or how much weight the latest celebrity lost.  It was when he came to the part where it is the usual quote of the day that he would pull a face.  It was the third day in a row.

“Bad quote?”  He asked uninterested.  Mycroft put the paper down and narrowed his eyes as he look at Greg.

“You’ve been watching me.”

“It’s you, I can stare all day.”  Greg shrugged as he replied, it was true, and now that they are in a relationship he finds himself staring at Mycroft for long periods of time.  Mycroft doesn’t mind, since it was a face filled with adoration, love, lust and everything he feels when looking at Greg. Mycroft smiled.

“I mean my reading habits.”

“If you mean that I have noticed you don’t like quotes, yes I saw that.”

“I hate quotes.”

“Why?”

“It’s so fake, not the quotes, but the way people use it, as if they try to be clever and deep and oh I’m so in touch with the real things of this world.”  Greg stared, wow he hated quotes.

“And they are not?”

“No, they would rather spend endless amounts of time on the right colour lipstick and how the latest movie rating is wrong, instead of the real concern of the world out there.  They watch reality shows and follow people instead of really living, of really getting out there and making a difference.  And then they would publish a little quote form Einstein, or E. E. Cummings and pretend they know the context, they can also be deep and philosophical.” 

Greg just nodded because he agreed to an extent, just last week he had a teenager who lost a friend and the only thing she was worried about, is how much followers she’ll get when tweeting about it. 

That day, he decided to change Mycroft’s mind, or at least make him see there can be good too so he send him a text.  Mycroft received it when he was in a three hour long meeting about the appropriate women’s shoes in parliament. 

_ “As Gregory Lestrade once said, one day if you meet a posh and tall man in suit with an umbrella and he set your soul and heart on fire, you keep him.”  Wise man.  So since I found you, can I keep you? GL.”  _

Mycroft shook his head, he may have changed Greg’s life, but Greg will never know the depth, the level of worth he brought into Mycroft’s life.  He may have set Greg’s soul and heart on fire, but Greg thawed the iron fisted ice age that was his life into a warm light.  

** “Well, I know a man by the name of Mycroft Holmes, who would cross oceans and would willingly surrender to a man like that.  If you keep me, can I keep you?  MH.” **

 


	103. Please pass the

** 13 please pass the **

 

It was officially the first fight.  After six months of bliss and small misunderstandings this was their official fight. It all happened when Greg found out that Mycroft’s parents were in town and he was happy, he thought he and Mycroft could have dinner with them and tell them they were in a relationship.  Sherlock knows but their parents didn’t.  He thought they could go to the next step in their relationship. It seemed like a good idea.  That was until Mycroft made it clear that under no circumstances is he going to tell them, in fact he asked Greg to move back to his flat for the week that his parents were here.  Greg lost it when he had to hide his clothes in a box in Mycroft’s basement.  He stared at Mycroft, the pain plain to see.

“So let me get this straight, basically I’m just the man to keep your bed warm?” 

“Gregory....”  Greg didn’t listen; he just turned around and walked away.  That was two days ago, and Greg haven’t heard anything from Mycroft in that time. 

The Saturday morning he received a text.

** “I would like you to meet my parents.  As a friend.  As Sherlock’s friend and colleague.  Tonight at Clarice. 7pm. MH” **

Greg frowned but before he could reply another text came in.

** “Maybe it would explain some of what you are feeling, if not, I will explain afterwards. MH.” **

Everything in him screamed no but he found himself typing ‘I’ll be there.” His heart always did its own thing.

 

The food was good, the Holmes parents were nice and Greg could see how much they cared for their sons, they accepted Greg as the man who gives Sherlock cases, helping him to stay clean.  Greg really liked them and he couldn’t understand why Mycroft didn’t want them to meet.  Mycroft was sitting opposite his parents, the farthest away from Greg the table allowed.  He greeted Greg in a very civil and professional manner and the strangest thing was that Sherlock didn’t say anything.

Mycroft didn’t dare to look at him to much, he might reveal how he feels, they fact that Greg agreed was a miracle in itself even though they haven’t shared a word yet.

Just as normal plot twist in a story would go, the table next to them was occupied by a couple, a gay couple.  They were sharing desert, their hands laced together. They would share words, secrets and whispers and didn’t care who saw.  Greg eyes opened and he understood why Mycroft was so reluctant when his parents were clearly embarrassed by them.  They didn’t accept it.  He stole a glance at Mycroft and saw that he and Sherlock was sharing a look, both trying to comfort each other.  His heart broke for them, and he felt bad about the fight, he just wished Mycroft told him.  He needed to let Mycroft know he understands and that it’s okay.  He waited until Sherlock was in some gory detail about a case when he turned to Mycroft.

“Mycroft, could you please pass me the wine; I noticed your father’s glass is nearly empty?”  Mycroft didn’t twitched, but Mycroft could see the gears working as he handed Greg the bottle.  Greg made sure their fingers brushed together. 

Once dinner was over they made their way outside.  Mycroft’s phone beeped.

“I do apologize for leaving you all, but work never ends.  Sherlock if you would be so kind to make sure they get safely to my home.”  He turned to Greg.

“It was good to see you Detective.”  Greg just nodded and watched as he disappeared in his black car.   Greg said his goodbyes and left the opposite direction.  He walked home, his thoughts everywhere.   Five minutes later a black car stopped next to him.  He opened the door and got in. 

“Thought you had important business?”

“None as important as you.”  Greg didn’t held back as he leaned over and kissed Mycroft.  Mycroft held on to Greg if he was his anchor in a drowning sea.

When they stopped Greg took his hand.

“You should’ve told me, I would’ve understood.”

“I know.  I was too embarrassed and didn’t know how to.  I will tell them, I made up my mind. I will tell them tomorrow before they leave and I don’t care about the consequences.  I can’t go another day without you.”  Greg smiled and kissed him again.

“And I will always be there for you.”

 


	104. Blank page

** 14\. Blank page **

Greg thought long and hard about this and then decides he had a plan, a perfect plan.  If it was so good, that even if it backfired he could just he forgot to put in the content.  He also had to plan the timing perfectly so if it doesn’t work out, he could say he was tired and overworked.  He may not be a Holmes, but he can conspire.

He waited a week before the perfect opportunity presented itself.  He was running after Sherlock again and he had to give an account on little brother’s comings and goings so he did all that and then he waited till the end and send Mycroft a blank text.   He didn’t receive a reply.

It was a few days later when they corresponded by emails and Greg did the same, he sends him a blank email.  He didn’t receive a reply, again.

 So it went on for a few weeks and when it hit the official seven week he was summoned to the Diogenes.  He hasn’t been there for a while yet was looking forward to it, he and Mycroft would have dinner and it would be great. 

As he walk down the hallways he wondered whether Mycroft would mention the empty texts and emails, if he does he got his story straight. ‘Oh sorry, must’ve been a glitch.’  ‘Really, my bad, I’ve been busy....’  He is sure he can get away with it. 

“Gregory, good evening.”  Greg walked over the table.  Mycroft was standing at the drinks table pouring them each a glass.

“Hey, how was your week?”  Greg asked taking the offered glass and took a sip. It was heaven.

“Not as interesting as something that has been happening these past few weeks.”   Mycroft replied a smile on his lips as he sat opposite Greg, who shivered slightly as sexy as that look is, he just know Mycroft had a secret agenda.  Play it cool, that’s all he has to do.

“Yeah?”  Mycroft nodded.

“I’ve been getting these empty texts and emails for a few weeks now, and was wondering what it was about.”   Greg looked down, he should’ve known.

He had no idea what to say, Mycroft didn’t come out and say it was him, so he can’t use the excuses his been coming up with.  So he just said nothing and took another sip when Mycroft stood up and went to stand before Greg.

“Why did you send me empty text, and a blank page via email, several in fact?” Greg looked up.

“I was busy and forgot to write?”  Yeah, that excuse sounded as dumb to him and apparently to Mycroft as well if that expression is any indication.

“Want to try that again?”  Mycroft said his voice close to Greg.  He should just come clean.

“I was hoping you could tell me what to write?”  He blurted out.

“Excuse me?” 

“I like you, and I figured if I have a change or opportunity to woo you I would like to send you text and emails with my feelings, but in order to do that I need to know how you feel and whether I can send you that.”   Mycroft leaned in closer.

“To ‘woo’ me?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t it be with poetry and verses and stuff?”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to offend you or make you uncomfortable so I figured if I sent you a blank page we can fill it with own story and verse?”  Mycroft didn’t know how to reply to that so he didn’t, he brought his hand to cup Greg’s face and softly kissed him.  He could feel Greg’s smile and before he could reciprocate Greg pulled him closer so that he lost his balance and sat on Greg’s lap.  As he gasp with that Greg used the opportunity to deepen the kiss.  When they finally parted Greg’s eyes were big and sparkling his lips swollen and smile wide.  Mycroft mirrored the smile.

“I would like to fill our pages with our own story.”


	105. Telepathy is. .

** 15\. Telepathy is... **

 

It was their private moment, they don’t have many of them, but whenever their schedules would allow it they would have lunch together at the Diogenes.  Usually the lunch is the last thing on their mind and today is no different; instead of eating they would have a make-out session.  Today their session was interrupted with a shrill sound. 

“Sorry Love, I have to take this.” Greg said as he pulled away from Mycroft answering the phone.

“Lestrade.....yeah....come on Sal, it’s my lunch....oi....remember who’s the boss and with the authority to send you to traffic control....okay...fine...I’m on my way.”  Putting the phone away he stood up.

“I’m sorry, I got to go.”

“Work call, I understand.”  Mycroft replied as he got up as well.

“See you tonight?”

“Of course, and tell Sergeant Donovan, I can put her in any traffic in all of the UK.”  Greg burst out laughing as he kissed him goodbye.

“I will pass the message.”

Greg arrived the crime scene with Sally trying to keep the forth until he arrives he made his way over to her as she start giving him the facts.

“Female, seventy-five, lived with her sister for the past five years.  The sister wasn’t at home when it happened; she did found the body when she came back.  She is with the doctor on scene as she collapsed.”  They made their way inside to have a look at the body, there were some weird ritualistic signs around the room and body and Sally was right, it was a gruesome killing.  Sighing he turned out and made his way out, he needed to speak to the sister.  As soon as they got close to her Greg froze, his face betraying the confusion.  He turned to Sally for an explanation.

“Oh, their twins.”

As they got close to her she grabbed Greg’s arm.

“I felt her screaming, I told her, the sergeant but she didn’t believe me.” 

“That you felt her screaming?”  Greg asked trying to keep his scepticism out of his voice. The woman nodded.

“We are bound by more than blood there was a bond between us, telepathy is a known phenomenon especially when it involves twins and even soulmates.” 

Greg just nodded and took the necessary notes before leaving, he went on with his job but the woman’s words stuck with him. She felt her sister dying, she just knew something was wrong and that made him think.  She said even soulmates have felt it, and he thought of him and Mycroft, Sherlock and John. 

For the next few days he paid close attention and even Googled telepathy, the theories are wide and broad, there’s stories about links between parents and children, mom especially, twins, soulmates and a variety of different people.

That’s how he found himself to observe the people around him much closer than usual, Sherlock and John being his second main couple with him and Mycroft being his number one. 

It was a Saturday evening and he and Mycroft were sharing some desert in front of the telly when Mycroft decided enough was enough.

“Gregory, may I ask why you have been observing me as if I’m some evidence in a murder case?”

“I have?”  Greg tried but knew he was right; he has been paying a lot more attention than normal.

“Yes, you have, and I’ll say it started with the twin case a few weeks back.”  Greg sighed and came clean.

“Do you know what telepathy is?”

“Yes, it is the supposed theory that two people are link by a mental knowledge, a link or chain that can’t be explained, but connects them. It is said that one knows when something is wrong or what the other is feeling, even if they are miles apart.”

“Yeah, the sister said she knew her twin was being murdered, that she could hear the screams, could feel the pain.”

“And now you are wondering if people around you are linked?”

“Something like that.”

“You are wondering whether we are linked.”  Mycroft stated.  Greg nodded.

“It is said that it can be between soulmates too, and I just know you are the mate to my soul, so...” he drifted off.  Mycroft shook his head in fondness and pulled Greg close.

“My dearest Gregory, I could tell you we are too much grown up for this discussion but I know it wouldn’t last, personally I don’t believe in telepathy but if I can be link to any person in this world, and it would be you.  You are my soulmate, my best friend, my love, my life, my everything.  Besides does it really matter whether it is real or not?”  Greg relaxed against his partner.

“No. I guess not.”

 


	106. Bunnies everywhere

** 16\. Bunnies everywhere **

It was all Mycroft’s fault, his and Greg.  That is if you listen to Sherlock and his rantings.  The surrogate mother was expecting, she was nearly to term and as the lovely married couple planned it was twins. A boy and a girl, they couldn’t wait.  The room was ready, the big massive British Government and his Detective Inspector house was childproof. The room was in a beautiful white with soft iridescent silver with pastel greens and purples.  The shelf with story books lined the one wall; the corner had small table and one big sleeper couch for the two dads.  Sherlock gave it one look and declared it too adult.

“Where’s the toys, the stuffed animals, they need toys not scatter cushions!”  Greg and Mycroft turned to one another their heads shook in exasperation and the look fondness.  He does care. 

They didn’t think much of it not when the mom so far had two false alarms.  It was close.  Mummy and Father Holmes arranged to move in for the time being to help the two men settle in.  It will be quite an adjustment for two middle aged men to be instant fathers to twins.

The call came early on a Sunday morning, and the men waited in the hospital, they were joined by Sherlock and John and the parents three hours later and it was late on the Sunday afternoon that the two babies made their way into the world.  John was the first to take pictures as they held their children; Mycroft was cradling his little girl as if she was the most precious thing in the world.  Greg was kissing his son on the forehead, already promising him football lessons.

The surprise came when they took them home; their room was filled with stuffed animals, all bunnies. There were bunnies everywhere and not a single scatter cushion in sight.  Sherlock added more colour, more child’s toys and it was perfect. 

His only response was; “I’m the uncle, it is my job and responsibility to spoil them rotten.  John said so.”


	107. Don't drink the water

** 17\. Don't drink the water **

Greg runs his fingers through his hair, the frustration clearly on his face.

“This is the third murder Sherlock!”  The case was exhausted there were no more links, no clues only three bodies in the morgue and all signs showing it is not going stop.  He came here to ask for help but Sherlock didn’t feel like helping.  It was a five, not worth his attention.  John was holding the file; Greg could see this bothered him as well.

“Sherlock, they have no idea what type of poising it was, if it even was a poison, this at least should interest you.”

“Not interested.”

“You were just saying how bored you are and here Scotland Yard is giving you a damn interesting case and you wanted to play Drama Queen?”   Sherlock just turned around.

“If you think it is so important, why don’t you help him?”   John put the file down.

“You know what? I will.”  He looked at Greg.

“The bodies are at St. Barts? Let’s go and have a look.” Greg looked at the file and picked it up he put it down on the table close to Sherlock.  He just knows that Sherlock would look at it when they’re gone.

 

At the morgue John was examining the bodies when Greg walked out to make a call. Mycroft answered on the first ring.

“Gregory.”

“I had this overwhelming desire to punch your brother today.”  There was a throaty chuckle.

“Not for the first time, there has been a few days, I take it he refused a case?”

“Oh, yes, it ranked a five, and all the while John would complain that he was bored.  John decided to help me though.” 

“He is a good man, a soldier who will never back down from helping people.”  Mycroft replied and Greg lit up a cigarette.

“True, but we both know Sherlock would be faster the thing is I have this feeling in my gut that we need to be quick.  It’s as if this isn’t over.  Anyway are you all set for tonight?”  

“Of course, all the plans are set; it is just going to be one boring meeting after another.  The conference is very important but I do find myself wishing to be with you instead of in a meeting.”

Greg laughed.

“You are not the only one.  Listen I got to get back inside. See you later.”

“Good luck with you case.”

“Good luck with your meeting.  Oh and by the way...I love you.”

Greg moved back into the morgue a smile on his face, his thoughts on Mycroft. He was so glad that the conference was in London, that means he didn’t had to go without a few days without him in some distant city. 

Three hours later Greg, John and Sally were around his desk files and facts and results. They were getting nowhere; there was no link that got them together that could help them.  Sally finished her coffee.

“It’s a shame the Freak isn’t here, this could’ve been solved earlier and I have a date tonight.”

“A date, hopefully better than Anderson.”   The bass voice of Sherlock  sounded behind her; they all turned around the voice. There was Sherlock in his Belstaff, the file in his hand.  He looked at Greg and dropped the copy of the dossier on his desk.

“I take it you didn’t find any link?”

“None, just that the poison has been ingested an hour before death on the latest victim, the one before him two hours and three for the first one, so it escalated.”   Sherlock started looking through all the files on his desk and the papers.  He narrowed his eyes and Greg could see the gears working.  He was on to something. It was just a matter of time before the breakthrough would come. 

“Oh!”  Sherlock cried out and all three stood up.

“The water!”  Sherlock cried out. 

“The water?” Greg asked as he realized it all started to make sense.

“Yes, he would need test subjects, the chemical compounds are perfect for the poison and it is something we all drink.  He needed to perfect his methods, the time it took for the poison to take effect.  But why, are there some conventions or something important here in London?”  Greg could feel the room getting smaller as his vision became blurry.  His stomach dropped as he realized what Sherlock was saying.

“Some international convention, Greg was saying earlier how glad he is that My...”  John eyes widen as his mouth opened in shock.

“What is it?” Sherlock yelled his hands clasping John’s shirt.

“Mycroft is going to be there, along with the Queen and everyone.”  John replied, his eyes turning to Greg who was already dialing Mycroft.

“Come on....pick up.... Mycroft... please....”  There was no answer.  Greg took a card from his drawer handing it to Sally.

“Call that number alert them.”  Sally nodded and picked up Greg’s phone.  Sherlock was shocked; Mycroft....his brother....and he didn’t think it was important. He looked at Greg.

“Mycroft.”  Greg shook his head. 

“He is not answering.  I tried Anthea as well.”  Sherlock got his phone out, trying to call his brother.

 

A small ten minute break was called and Mycroft took the opportunity to go to the water and food table, he wasn’t really hungry, but he could do with some water.  He took the small bottle twisting the cap open and took a swallow, it was cold and fresh.  He might as well check his phone.  As he removed it, a dizzy spell overcame him and he had to lean against the wall not to fall down.  His first instincts were that he should eat something before he felt the first drop of sweat rolling down his forehead.  ‘When did it become so hot?’  His hands trembled as he took out his phone; there were five missed calls from Greg and his brother.  A text message came in and as he struggled to open it.  It was from Greg.

 _“Don’t drink the water!”_   it took him two attempts to register what the text said before he turned to the bottle, it was half empty and as the shivers started it fell out of his hands, with the phone, the last thing he remembered was that he fell on the floor, his phone rang again but he didn’t answer.


	108. You're invited

** 18\. You’re invited **

Greg was over to Baker Street, he needed Sherlock to help him with another case.  They were in the living room when John came up the stairs, all smiling.  He looked at Greg.

“We got some fancy post.”  Greg frowned until his eye caught the envelope and his face broke out in this radiant smile.  Sherlock saw it and rolled it eyes.

“Oh no.”  He sounded mortified and Greg just smiled broader as he looks at Sherlock.

“Oh yes.” 

“It isn’t.”  Sherlock dropped the crime scene photo and walked over the John, who opened the beautiful envelope.  It was a soft gold with silver streaks in the corner.

“It is.”  Greg sounded gleeful.  Sherlock took the envelope and look at their names.  Mr. S. Holmes and Dr. J Watson with the address were in swirly black ink neatly in the middle.  He gave a quick smile at that.  Their names were together.  John looked at the card.  It was plain and simple with cursive writing. According to the overall colour scheme it was silver and gold.  He read it quickly and handed it to Sherlock to everyone’s surprise was gentle with it.

“It’s personalized...”  He said with surprise.  Greg nodded.

“Yes, every person’s card says the same thing – obviously – but the invitation is personalized.”

“ _Sherlock and John, you’re invited to join us, Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade in the celebrations of becoming husbands...blah....the moment....so forth_....” Sherlock read and just glanced at the rest of the words.  He looked up to Lestrade…no his brother’s fiancé….his new brother in law…. _older_  brother in law…he is the baby brother under two overprotective brothers. 

“You look very happy with the prospect of marrying again.” Sherlock commented.  Greg just sighed in a happy contented way.

“Yeah, it’s because marrying the most awesome man ever.”  Sherlock rolled his eyes and John looked happy.

“That is so cheesy you can make the world’s biggest macaroni and cheese dish.”  Greg just tilted his head.

“I know, it so brilliant and I’ll never go hungry again.”  Sherlock stepped closer, trying to sound intimidating.

“Stop it, or I won’t tell you who your murderer is.”  Greg looked at him his face still happy.

“You will….bro…”

 


	109. She took a sip

** 19\. She took a sip **

Mycroft’s hands were shaking, his heart was beating fast and he could swear that his stomach was producing an ulcer as he stands.  This was bad, he should not feel like this, not when he is known if most parts of the world as the Ice-Man, the man with no fear who would ruin you with just a glance. 

This was different; there was so much on the line, so much at stake.  This is major; it was bigger than the 2012 Olympics, bigger than his meeting with old President Barack Obama, bigger than the first meeting he had with the Queen.  The kettle boiled and the whistle shook his out of his thoughts.  He glanced at the window to see the crux of his problem.  An elderly woman with thick brown hair framing her suntanned face, her brown eyes sparkling and her smile held that same mirth that Gregory has.  They grey hair of his partner is from his father’s side as the woman didn’t have a single one.  Mrs. Lestrade, or Mrs-call-me-mum-I-already-think-of-you-as-my-younger-one-Lestrade was in his back garden.  In their back garden as Gregory was living here as well.  They want to get married and Gregory thought it was time he meet Mum. 

In a way it was strange, he was so used to being the older son, the eldest that he took a moment to realise in the Lestrade family, he was going to be the younger son…no wait…even Mummy Holmes is glad to get such a ‘handsome addition’ to her family.  He wasn’t the eldest anymore. Well that was an issue for later, right now, she wanted tea.  But she only drinks proper old French teas as she has ‘no idea where Greg gets this notion to drink baggy tea.’

“Certainly not from me Mycroft, I’m sure it was the ex – different one that one.” He could only agree.

So here he was making tea to impress someone, and for the first time in his life he valued the impression.  It was his mother-in-law.  He adored her; she had such a comfortable air about her, just like Gregory.  A people person – except for her tea. He chose the leaves specifically a special blend he put together. They were coming back in and he could hear the laughter and cheeriness all the way to the kitchen.  Picking up the tray he made his way to the living room.

“Oh my dear, the garden is amazing; I bet you two have so many picnics and just a good time out there.”

“Oh yes.  I was never fond of the outside, but Gregory did show me the upside to being outdoors.”  She put her hand on her son’s knee.

“He does that, his father was the same, it was always a struggle to get them inside, if it wasn’t kicking balls, it was working on the car or just sitting outside having their ‘man-time’.” Mycroft could see the nostalgic smile in Greg’s face as he thought of his dad.   Before he could say anything his mum leaned forward to make the tea. 

“Oh, this smells wonderful.” The knot in his stomach loosened a bit, at that.

“It is a special blend, specifically made for you.” He replied as they each took a sip.   Mycroft pretended to be occupied somewhere else but his focus was on her.  She took a sip and he held his breath, only to release it as the most satisfied expression crosses her face.

“Oh…my word… this is certainly the best I’ve ever had.  Mycroft you are a magician.”  Mycroft felt his body relax as she spoke and gave her a true genuine smile.  He looked at Greg who smiled back, and he realised, that he may get married to this man, but he is gaining a true loving family. 

 


	110. I can drive

** 20\. I can drive **

It was their official third date and Greg and Mycroft was still trying to find one another’s, so far it has been good, but there was some invisible barrier that still prohibited them from moving forwards.  It is as if they haven’t let each other in, in their private bubble of who they really are without masks.  They would talk for hours, they would have dinners, share wine but there was still something missing.  After the last date Greg made a comment about them always making out in the back of his car like teenagers.  Afraid of the chaperone in front.  That made Mycroft thinks so he decided that this time there would be no driver.

Greg was beyond ecstatic when he was picked up in a silver Mercedes without any driver.  Mycroft opened the door and climbed out to meet Greg. 

"No chaperone?"  Greg asked a cheeky smirk already on his face with the prospect of having Mycroft all to himself.  Mycroft felt happy, he can’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that. 

"I thought it would be nice, just you and me."  Greg smile became wider as he pulled Mycroft close and kissed him.

"Unsupervised, I’m filled with ideas already."  Greg said when he pulled away and laughed at the blush on Mycroft's face.

"Ideas on our date?"   He tried both knew it was futile.

"On what to do with you, tell me, big backseat?" 

"No."  Mycroft whispered as he opened the door for Greg.

"Tsk tsk..."  Greg replied, his hand on his heart as if he it was broken, Mycroft just rolled his eyes and walked around to his side.  Once inside Greg looked at him as he started the car.

"You can drive?"  The mischievous look back and Mycroft will always wonder how lucky he was to have this man in his life.

"I can drive."  He replied pretending to be offended. 

"So where to?" 

"You just have to wait and see."  Mycroft looked back at Greg before he switched the car on, he couldn’t not wait to see Greg's expression when he takes him to his home where he cooked them a nice dinner with dessert as well.  It was a big risk to open himself like this but when he looked at the man next to him, he knew it was worth it. 


	111. His fist flew into

** 21\. His fist flew into **

The only noise in the room is the occasional groan as the cotton ball soaked in antiseptic touches a sensitive spot.  Mycroft was without his jacket, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his attention on the man in front of him.

"You were very lucky, this could've been much worse."  Mycroft's voice was strong, demanding respect; unfortunately the man was immune to it as his smile just became broader.

"Oh no worries Love, I've had some serious brawls back in my day, and this is nothing."  Greg was sitting on the edge of the table, the big dark wood table containing Top Secret files and he was sitting on it, his shirt was off, the undershirt stained with some blood drops, otherwise it was unharmed.  His hair was ruffled; his eye was swollen from the shiner that would no doubt be there for a week at least.  There was a small cut on his eyebrow that depending on Mycroft's talent may or may not require stitches. His knuckles were bruised and red.  A few small cuts dotted with dried blood, Mycroft haven't had a change to clean that up.

"Still, you shouldn't have had to resort to this."  Mycroft put the cotton back on the table, stained with Greg's blood; he picked up the butterfly plasters and opened it.  His one hand cupped Greg's cheek to tilt his head before he used both hands to tape the small cut.

"You are very lucky this doesn't require stitches." 

"Would you have put it in?"  Greg asked looking up at Mycroft through his lashes.  Mycroft groaned inwardly, there is no way Greg is supposed to look so hot and sexy just after a fight.  Greg could've been seriously harmed and instead he was being turned on as he looks after his injuries.  All superficial but he will never forget the quick moves Greg had, the way he defended Mycroft from being attacked, the way his fist flew into the man's face before he withdrew it and punched him in the stomach.  It spoke of previous brawls and fights and Greg hadn't forgotten a single move.  He may be a DI now, but he had seen some pretty rough stuff in his days and it is not supposed to have such an effect on his libido. 

"No, I would have asked a strict nurse at the hospital."  Mycroft replied before stepping away and sitting down so he could start on Greg's hands.

"Aaah, you would've."  Greg joked back before he quickly leaned in to steal a kiss.  Mycroft allowed the kiss but before Greg could pull back he kept him close.

"As much as I appreciate you defending me, coming to my aid, please don't ever do it again, I have people for it."

"And they weren't there."

"They were close by."  Mycroft let go of Greg's shirt and started on is hands.

"Mycroft. I can’t promise you that, as I will always defend you when I can, protect you if I'm able, and it is not because i am a cop, it is because I love you, and will do anything to not see you get hurt."

"But you got hurt."  Mycroft replied looking down his fingers slowly caressing the bruises on his hands, his strong and solid hands.  Greg intertwined their hands.

"And you were safe.  Please don't worry so much, I think the evening turned out pretty good."

I got attacked you defended me, my people ruined our night and Anthea is trying to do damage control and instead of having dinner I'm patching you up."

Greg slid of the table and bend in front of Mycroft.

"And you do it so well.  How about we go home after this and we can just get some take out and held each other as we sleep?" 

Mycroft smiled shyly before he looked up and Greg and nodded. 

 


	112. The macarena

** 22\. The Macarena **

Someday Mycroft is extremely glad that he has as much power as he has. Especially over the surveillance in his house.  It never used to be a problem, nothing happened there, he would spend most of his time at work, only going home to shower and sleep and on some days that he was off, the cameras would show him reading in his living room, the news on in the background or he would be on his laptop working.  Nothing interesting. 

Then Greg happened.

Gone was the boring days and he had to take more control over his surveillance, as instead of just going home to shower and sleep became sessions of him and Greg, making out, having sex and being together. The thing was, that there were no cameras in his private room, but Greg... oh that man, didn't care as he walked around naked in the house or just dressed in underwear.  His excuse being. "You have seen it all My, no reason to get dressed, it only me and you anyhow."  And the team watching his house, but Greg doesn't know that.

They would spend their free time in the kitchen cooking and kissing, not always in that order though.  They would watch crap telly and movies while making out on the sofa.  Mycroft would teach Greg how to slow dance with candles all over the room, they would sit at the table and work together.  The main reason Mycroft wanted to keep it a secret and hidden is because it is their moments.  Their moment to be together, without the world interrupting them demanding their attention.  It was where they could escape all the things out there in the world and just be them. Together.

The fact that Greg may not be able to slow dance didn't stop him from dancing to rock music and if he once tried to teach Mycroft how to mash to some rock no one needs to know.  They most certainly do not need to know that Greg once taught him the Macarena in the living room, dressed in jeans and barefoot, no that is their secret, their home, their moment.

 


	113. Tiles

** 23\. Tiles **

Mycroft was already home when Greg came in, he just finished his afternoon run on the treadmill and haven't had time to shower and change. 

"Hey Love."  Greg met Mycroft halfway in the hallway he leaned in to kiss Mycroft when he pulled away.

"I just finished running I smell and sweating."  Greg smiled and still pulled him close for a kiss.

"You are still beautiful and I still want my kiss."  Mycroft rolled his eyes and followed Greg into the kitchen.  Greg was carrying some grocery bags in one hand with a book under his arm.

"What is that?"  Mycroft asked as he helped Greg to unpack a few of the stuff he bought. 

"Leave the frozen berries and choc chips please, that is a book on quick and easy smoothies."  Greg replied and pushed the book to Mycroft as he put the bread away and took the blender out of the cupboard.

"Smoothies?"   Mycroft let the scepticism show on his face as he picked it up.

"Yup.  I thought that we could practice making some of these, they are very healthy, low in calories - depending on which one you make - and thought with your eating habits it would be nice to have on the run or when you couldn't eat a good meal."  Mycroft turned to Greg that was so thoughtful and a very good idea.  Some of the smoothies looked delicious and as Greg said very healthy.  Especially the green ones with Kale and Wheatgrass that he quickly saw.

"And you want us to make some now?"  He asked as he eyed the frozen berries and choc chips on the table, Greg had plugged the machine in and was taking out some yogurt from the fridge.

"Yeah, not a lot, just enough for two small glasses, before dinner?"

"So how do we make this?"  Mycroft asked, already liking the idea.

"There are several recipes but I thought just as a test run we could make the choc berry one.  Basically we just add the frozen berries, some yogurt and the choc chips and just blend it all together."   Greg answered and as he spoke he added the ingredients to the blender.  Mycroft watched with a smile and fondness, he was so lucky to have this man in his life. 

"Ready?"  Greg asked as everything was added.

"Ready."  Mycroft replied and stepped closer as he turned the machine on, it was a loud rattling as the berries was crushed and mixed with the yogurt and chocolate chips.  He waited till it was all mixed before he switched it off and took the lid off.  Using a spoon he tasted it.

"Nice. Here try."  He handed the spoon to Mycroft who sighed.

"Oh, this is delicious, and a very healthy substitute."  Instead of pouring the contents in a glass they fed each other spoonful.  They stood closer to the blender and somehow one of them moved the machine and it switched back on without the lid.  The purple slosh sprayed the whole kitchen, the counter, the tiles and most importantly the two men that was half bend over.  The quiet that filled the room after the machine was deadly until Greg looked at Mycroft and then he burst out laughing.  Mycroft tried to get upset but couldn't and joined Greg in the laughter.  When they stopped Greg turned to Mycroft and swiped his finger across his cheek and put it in his mouth.

"Gregory!"  Mycroft exclaimed and Greg just winked before he pulled Mycroft close and kissed him, all up his jaw. 

"If smoothies were presented like this, I would've become a smoothie master years ago."

"It is a bit unhygienic."  Mycroft tried but made no move to move away, instead he just pulled Greg closer.

"You’re right; we should take this to the bedroom."  Greg whispered between kisses.

"Don’t you mean shower." 

"Absolutely."

"What about the kitchen?"

"We can clean it afterwards.  Come on." 

Dinner and clean up was forgotten.

 

 


	114. Drip drip drip

** 25\. Drip, drip, drip **

 

49.  That's the total amount of times that little saline drip is falling into the rubber tube and into Mycroft's vein.  He wondered if he could ask the nurse to make it a little faster, that way it can be 50 or 52, you know a nice even number.  49 are so...off beat. 

49 little drip drip drip per hour, that's 1176 in day and Mycroft, has been unconscious for 37 hours so that means a total of 1813 drops of saline has entered his blood stream.  Greg would know, he used a calculator to do the sums.  He was no Holmes with numbers.  Every drop was filling Mycroft with the necessary nutrients and anti-bodies his body needs to fight.  To stay alive. That and his will to fight.   But Greg wasn’t worried about that, he has that in loads.  His tenacity and stubbornness to give up was way more advanced than anyone else's.  The British Government raised Sherlock Holmes; he knows a thing or two about fighting. 

Greg gave a long sigh, his own body was hurting, his muscles were stiff from the lack of movement and his lungs have sufficiently adapted to hospital air, the antiseptic high alcoholic content that was harsh on his nose, is gone, instead he wasn’t even smelling it anymore.  He looked down to his fingers intertwined with Mycroft.  The long thin fingers seemed even more white than normal; his thick brown ones made it looked paler than before.  Just one twitch.  He just want one twitch to know that Mycroft is there listening to him as he talked.  Which he did, a lot his voice was constant throughout the room, except when he was eating, "This sandwich is awful My..." going to the bathroom, "I miss our bathroom Love, this one sucks."  Or when exhaustion was claiming him.

Sherlock and John came and go as they have a change, Anthea sat with them during the night as Greg slept.  She didn’t say anything as Greg was telling him about his five year school trip and fell asleep midway between his excitement for seeing the monkeys and going to the bear's enclosure.  Apparently he likes monkeys which explain his fascination with Sherlock but it’s not her place to say anything. 

It was late the afternoon when Sherlock and John came by with two visitors, their parents.  They looked at the man sitting on the small chair; his one hand in Mycroft's his head resting on his other.  He looked exhausted. 

"Who is that Sherlock?"  Mummy asked.  Sherlock looked at Greg.

"The detective who I work with...Greg…and Mycroft's partner."  He added and her eyes filled with tears as she looked at Sherlock.   Mycroft never told them he was seeing someone but if Sherlock is okay with this Greg, they know he was good for their eldest. 

Without waiting for Sherlock she walked to the room and stepped inside.  Greg was talking but she could see he was near falling asleep, his clothes were wrinkled, his hair standing in every direction, he had a two day beard and his eyes were bloodshot.

"So, in that case we will need to get a griller too...."  She cleared her throat and Greg didn’t even turn around.

"The saline is still half full, his catheter bag is not even half, the monitors haven’t changed since last night and he hasn’t moved, and neither will I.....anyway Love as I was saying the patio..." Sherlock smirked; Greg thought Mummy was a nurse. 

"Lestrade."  Greg tuned to Sherlock.

"Oh hi...."  His eyes widen as he looked at the four people in the room, their mother instantly warming up to him

"Hi I'm Violet Holmes." She held out her hand and Greg let go of Mycroft's to shake it.

"Greg it's good to meet you."

"You too Greg, I understand you've been here a while?"  Greg nodded and notice the first time that John was holding an overnight bag. "What’s that?"

"Clean clothes and soap."

"I'm already wearing clothes."

"The same pair since the day before."  Sherlock added Greg turned to him.

"It's comfortable, his face open and they could see he was looking for an excuse not to leave. John stepped closer.

"You're starting to smell."  Greg opened his mouth to reply but close it again, his shoulders sagging.

"Yeah, okay...but Mycroft..."  He tried as a last attempt.

"Is not going anywhere." Sherlock replied and pushed Greg to John with the bag.  He turned back to them.

"You'll call me if anything happens okay?" 

"Of course."  John provided and with a last smile at them he took the bag and went to the shower down the hall.  Mummy watched him walked with a smile.

"I like him." 

While Greg was gone Mycroft was slowly waking up, his eyes opened and he looked around until he saw them.  Mummy jumped up and hugged him as best as she could. His father gave him a pat on his shoulder.  Mycroft looked around the room and not finding what he was looking for, he sagged back against the pillows, looking defeated.  Sherlock groaned out loud.

"He is in the shower."  He provided and Mycroft looked at Sherlock, his eyes switching to the hallway.

"We had no choice; two days pining next to your bed is really a bad smell on him.  What impression is he hoping to make on Mummy, looking and smelling like that?" 

Mycroft smiled fondly.

"He was talking the whole time."

"I would stay unconscious for that too."  John elbowed him in the ribs and Mummy made a wave with her hands, Mycroft was smiling at Sherlock until his eyes caught movement in the hallway, his smiled became broader and his eyes sparkled as the heart monitor spike.  Mummy was concerned but then saw the look on her son's face and turned to the door.  Greg was walking back until, looking much better than before, he was looking around until his eyes caught their room, Mycroft to be precise.  His step slowed, and his eyes filled with tears and then he sprinted to them he dropped the bag in the entryway and rushed to the bed as Mycroft held out his arms.  Greg hugged him tight as he cried.   The room was quiet and Mummy's heart swelled with love and pride, she may not know Greg personally yet, but he was the light of her son's life, and clearly he felt the same way about Mycroft.


	115. Who was he

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although not officially her birthday yet, this is for daynaan. Happy birthday in a few weeks!

** 26\. Who was he **

 

Greg knew that when he applies logic to it, he has no reason to be upset worried or jealous about.  So his ex cheated on him, Mycroft wont, he had on multiple occasions expressed his distaste for something like that. 

So what if was meeting some posh man, twice in one week, for lunch.  The fact that it was Sherlock who told him, who pointed it out it seems as if he was already boring Mycroft that he was angry...no concern.  There has to be an excuse, there has to be a good reason on why Mycroft would meet him. 

It was a doctor.  Greg did a little digging and discovered that the man he was seeing was a doctor.  Greg stopped his pacing around the room and froze.  A doctor! 

He was so concern and paranoid about cheating that he never wondered about Mycroft's health.  What other reason could it be that he would meet with a doctor?

Well, it was in a public place so maybe it was not that serious. 

"Seriously, I wouldn’t want to talk about my health to a doctor in public, especially if it was bad...”  Mycroft is a very private person; there is no way he would talk in public about his health like that. The thing now was, how does he deal with it?  Should he wait to see what happens or should he just go right out and confront him? 

He didn’t do anything however Mycroft could see there was something bothering Greg as they spend time together; he was more distant, more passive than before.  It bothered him to no end.  He knew it wasn’t a case; it wasn’t Sherlock so the only thing left was his private life.  He needed to find out what was bothering him so he can deal with it.  The strange thing was that he would occasionally look at him and his face would be sad, nearly heartbroken.   Mycroft couldn’t stand it. 

He finally decided enough is enough when Greg would hold him as they sleep as if he was afraid that Mycroft was going to leave.  It was just after one in the morning and he wanted to go to the bathroom when Greg pulled him tight.

"Please don’t' leave."  He whispered in his sleep and Mycroft's heart shattered.  He switched on the light and put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "Gregory wake up."

"Wh.. up.?"  Greg asked as he wiped his eyes trying to adjust to the light. 

"What is wrong?"  Mycroft asked, the best chance for a truthful answer would be to ask him straight out.

"Huh?"

Maybe not.   Mycroft sighed.

"For the past few days you looked at me like you’re ill, or dying or something, you would get all sad and you have become passive, and listless."

Greg looked down in shame, clearly embarrassed about whatever is going on.

"Gregory..."

"I love you... so much...and the idea that I might lose you is really painful."  Mycroft was stunned.

"Why on earth would you lose me?" 

Greg gave a deep sigh.

"I know about your lunches with that doctor, Sherlock pointed it out, and then I thought you are having an affair, but remembered that you despises unfaithfulness and then I thought you might be ill but that doesn’t make sense as you won’t talk about your health in a public setting and I don’t know what to do, or to  think and I thought I might confront you and asked you straight who was he but then it would look as if I don’t trust you, so I kept quiet."  Greg rushed through his words all the while looking over Mycroft's shoulder.  Mycroft gave a deep sigh and pulled Greg close. 

"Oh Gregory, I am so sorry.  It is all just a misunderstanding, I am not having an affair, and I most certainly am not ill."  Greg pulled away slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Yes.  It was going to be a surprise for your birthday."

"A surprise?"

"You know how we've been talking about how we want to start a family after we are married?"  Greg nodded, his face still confused but focused on Mycroft.

"Dr. Holloway is the leading specialist in IVF treatment and surrogacy.  I thought if he can find us all the information we need and the procedures to start a family it would be good, I was planning on giving you all the information on your birthday, as a present." 

Greg's mouth was open in wonder, Mycroft wanted them to begin their family, to be parents, he choked as the tears started to roll down his cheek, he felt like such an idiot.

Mycroft saw the emotions and cupped his cheeks.

"You are not an idiot, and I am sorry I hurt you with this.  I love you Gregory and you need to know that every part of me is alight for you and you only."  Greg couldn’t talk as he pulled Mycroft closer, he was so happy.  They were finally going to be a family.

 

 

 


	116. The pastry chef

** 27\. The pastry chef ** ** **

It was a Monday morning; the weekend was like every other weekend in the history of weekends- too short.   Greg was the first to arrive with sally and the rest on his wheels.  Then something happened. At nine a young man in a waiter's uniform came walking in with a big take away bag.  Greg frowned as he watches the young man making his way to Greg's office.  He looked around at all the people, the poor kid, probably has never seen so many cops and detectives at once.  His hands clutch the bag tighter and walked faster to his office.  Greg got up and waited at the door for him.

"Det...Detective Lestrade?"

"Detective Inspector."  he corrected automatically, not realising his voice was a bit harsh, the kid blushed and stammered.

"Sor...soryy..."  Feeling slightly guilty he smiled, hoping to calm him.

"It’s okay, how can I help you?"

"A man ordered this for you; he said it was for you and your team."  Greg became suspicious.

"What man?" 

"He said he was from Transport and that you would need this if you're dealing with his brother."  Greg frowned until realization stuck.  Mycroft.  Unbelievable.  Curiously Greg held out his hand.

"What did he give?" 

The boy put the bag down on the floor and unzipped it, by now they have a bit of an audience.  The boy pulled out one big pale yellow box and handed it too Greg who took it, the boy lowered and pulled out a second one.  Greg narrowed his eyes, exactly how many boxes are there.   He pointed at Sally who took the second box.

"This is all sir."  The boy replied and with a nod he picked up the bag and nearly ran out the building. 

"What the hell?"  Sally asked as she put the box down on the table, Greg followed her.

"Mycroft is softening us up to deal with S...." His voice broke off as they stared at the contents.  In one box was about a dozen or so, doughnuts, in a variety of colours and decorations, the other one held savoury muffins, they were still warm and smelled divine.

Sally eyed the box and looked at Greg.

"Mycroft?  To soften us up to deal with his brother, I don't think so."

"Huh?" Greg turned to her.  She rolled her eyes and muttered 'men'

"He likes you, we've been dealing with his brother for years now, strange the other day you mentioned how you wouldn't mind starting your day with a nice savoury muffin or doughnut and voila here we are...Mycroft clearly knows the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.  You should call him."  With that she grabbed a doughnut and muffin and walked away.  Greg eyed her, his team and the box.  A smile broke out as he picked up the only chocolate doughnut with red sprinkles and a muffin.  He nodded to the guys who nearly pushed him out the way to get to the box.

Putting it on a piece of scrap paper on his desk he picked up the phone. 

"Detective Inspector, what a pleasant surprise." 

"Not as pleasant as the one I got this morning."  Greg replied, all smiling.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah some fairy acted as the pastry chef and delivered this huge box of goodies for me and my team."

"Fairies don't exist."  Mycroft replied smoothly.

"That's a shame, because I was going to take him out for dinner to say thank you, who should I take out now?"  Greg flirted and he could hear the silence before Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Well, i know this small place...”  His voice trailed off.

"Seven?"

"I'll pick you up."


	117. No entry

28\. No entry

 

Sherlock knew that his brother had a date that evening, a date...with Lestrade. After about five months of being together he wasn't a hundred percent at peace with the idea that his brother was seeing and probably sleeping with his detective. He scowled as he lifted the window to climb through. 

Fine.

Lestrade may not be his, but he did meet him first, and he does not want to be the one who introduced his brother to the light of life, the love that melt his heart blah blah blah. 

Once inside the room he closed the window, he smiled. His brother seriously needs to update his security, and the 'no entry - trespassers will be prosecuted' sign at the gate is ridiculous. He might as well advertise, the idiot. He knows the house like the back of his mind and therefor didn't even try to hide his presence. The home-owner would now either be in the shower or the bedroom getting ready for the night. He just needs to get to the office, take the file he needed and be gone, in, out, without anyone noticing. 

He made his way downstairs the office is next to the living room, the door would be open as the house alarm is on and he is alone and so easy to take the file for Sherlock. Just across the hallway past the living room and then the office. He came about halfway when he heard a thud. He froze. The owner has a lot of enemies, what if someone broke in as well. He picked up the vase closest to the door and took a breath. One, two, three.

He entered the room, the vase in the air and he froze. 

"Sherlock!" Greg yelled as tried to cover what he could with the throw over the sofa. He stared. Greg was having sex on the living room rug with...with his brother...The thud he heard was when they fell from the sofa to the floor. They were both naked and folded into each other like some kind of pretzel. 

"Sherlock...?" Mycroft tried after he didn't answer Greg. He was still staring at them. Sherlock slowly lowered the vase his eyes blinking.

"You’re supposed to be in the shower getting ready for your date."

"Were having date nights in..." Mycroft replied trying to hide beneath the blanket. Greg smiled.

"Yeah, movie and snogging."

"You were doing more than snogging."

"How did you get in?" Mycroft decided to ask. 

"Window, disabled your security. Wanted the 'Wightman file'. 

Mycroft rolled his eyes sitting up straight, Greg leaned back against the sofa, he couldn't remember the last time he was cockblocked to the extreme by Sherlock. He glanced at Mycroft and tried to hide his fond smile, he was blushing quite badly as he looked at Sherlock.

"You can either take it now and leave or leave and I'll bring it by tomorrow at Baker Street." Mycroft tried. Sherlock just gave a small nod left, the vase still in his hands as he walked out the door.


	118. Name on a napkin

** 29\. Name on a napkin ** ** **

Greg and Mycroft were busy with their wedding plans.  Instead of a wedding planner they had decided to do everything themselves, well Anthea pretty much.  The thing was, they decided to have an active role in the wedding, they will decide where everyone sits, and the menu, the layout, right down to the table decorations.  None of them was going for extravagant they wanted  simple and elegant. 

Sherlock was sitting on the other side of the table, a case file open, while Greg and Mycroft discussed napkins.  Yes, right now they couldn't decide between the crown patterns "No Mycroft, I'm marrying the British Government not the Queen."  Greg declared loudly.

'Same difference' Sherlock would mutter and that would set the two brothers of in staring match.  Greg wanted a rose design because he thought it looked cool.  Not elegant...cool.  Mycroft just stared at that, if he says anything it might start a fight, and he wasn't in the mood for it. 

After an hour of still getting nowhere Sherlock lost his temper.

"Lestrade go make tea. Mycroft go make a call or something. Come back in five minutes and try again."  They looked at each other and stood up; Sherlock may have a point on that.  Mycroft did as Sherlock asked and went to check on a few emails.  Greg made the tea. 

Ten minutes later they came back the living room to see Sherlock standing in front of the table.

"This is how it is going to be, you wanted a rose Lestrade and the answer is no,  The theme is elegance and as much as a rose folded napkin would be elegant, it does not fit either of your personalities, and the excuse of being cool does not cut it."  Greg pouted at that and Mycroft looked smug.  Sherlock turned to him.

"Which brings me to you.  A crown, really?  Stop being so snobbish and ridiculous, none of the monarchy is going to be there and besides you're higher up and more important than them on any way."  Mycroft turned his head, his mouth moving as if he is trying to say something but his lips is stopping him. 

"So what is the solution?"  Greg asked.  Sherlock got a bright smile and stepped away from the table.  The two men stepped closer to see that he has folded several napkins in the form of a tuxedo.  It had the collar everything in instead of the small bowtie was a small black card with the guest's name.  That even sorted their dilemma about the names on the table because the name on the napkin is very stylish.  Mycroft and Greg looked at each other a slow smile on their lips.  It was perfect. 

"Oh and your murderer is the uncle, excuse me." Without waiting for a reply he left them alone, still smiling at the table.


	119. And yet....

** 30\. And yet ** ** **

The tables looked spectacular, but not as much as the two men in their matching tuxedos, the lights were shining a sparkling spectrum of colour and lights dancing off the walls, however the light in the two men's eyes, were brighter, shinier.  The food was delicious and amazing and everybody enjoyed it, they would comment and nod with glee seeing the tuxedo folded napkins, the silver and gold decorations, everything looked as though it jumped out of the latest wedding must have magazine spreadsheet.  

It was time for the toasts and both Greg and Mycroft looked at each other, both filed with curiosity, some excitement, trepidation but mostly fear.  Sherlock is to deliver the toast.   Greg could see Sherlock fidgeting with - is that speech card? - Oh it is.  Greg quickly stood up and ticked his glass with the spoon.

"May I have your attention please?"   The sounds and noise simmered down and Sherlock frowned.  Greg gave him a reassuring smile.  They could see his nervousness, the way he can’t find a way to stand, the spoon still tapping against his thigh, he hasn't put it on the table

"I know Sherlock is the first to speak, but I would just like to break the ice, so to speak."  He looked at Mycroft and he visibly relaxed. 

"I am not going to say a lot, you know most of it already and it has been building up for years now, I just want you to know that ever since the day I met you, I knew if given the chance I would be able to love you, and somehow I got it, when we got together I knew this was it.  But you need to know that today I don't think I have ever loved you as much as I do now...and that's saying a lot...and yet...I can't explain it, but I know tomorrow I will love you even more, as the day after that and..."  Greg couldn't finish his sentence as he was suddenly pulled in the tightest embrace ever.  He put the glass down and hugged him back.  This moment was just the beginning.


	120. Invisible

** 1.Invisible **

It was dark and both Greg and Mycroft were in bed, tired but happy, basking in the moment after having a wonderful evening.  Greg cooked for them, then they danced and that lead to kissing and the kissing led to some amazing sex and now they were both happy with the day’s end.

Greg sighed and moved so that he could look at Mycroft who was looking at the ceiling with a huge smile on his face, his hair was ruffled up and there was sweat drops on his forehead.  Greg loved it.  Lifting his hand he swept some droplets away, Mycroft turned to him. 

“You know, I really don’t mind ending my day like this.” 

Greg chuckled softly.

“Yeah, me either.” 

“We should go take a shower.”  Mycroft said, but made no move to get out of the bed.  Neither did Greg.

“You first?”  They asked simultaneously and laughed.  Together they finally got out of bed to go shower that turned into another make out session.  Greg was first to leave and started to draw hearts on the mirror. 

“How old are you?”  Mycroft asked all smiling as he looked at the little hearts, Greg had started to draw two stick men next to it, with little ‘g’ and ‘m’ above it.  Mycroft didn’t really mind but had to keep up at least some type of pretence. It didn’t work.

“Love, If you had any type of superpower, what would it be?’  Greg asked as he turned around a put on his boxers.  Somehow Mycroft did mind that, he prefers him naked, oh well.

“Why would I want that?”

“Well let’s just say we can choose our own superpower what would you choose?”  Mycroft thought for a minute before he answered.

“The power of probability.”

“Huh?”

“Probability, for example I think the probability of word peace is a 100%, voila.” Greg looked impressed.

“Oh, so if I say the probability that our table is filled with Chinese take-out and pizza every day is a hundred, I would never go hungry?”  Mycroft rolled his eyes, instead of world dominion, and a bathtub full of money he wants a table of food.

“Yes.”

“That’s awesome.”

“What would your superpower be?”  Mycroft asked, he wasn’t planning on, but here he was, asking his partner silly questions.

“To be invisible.”  Mycroft was surprised.

“Why, I thought you’d go for flying or bending time, you always go on about it.”

“Yeah, true.”  Greg replied but took a step closer to Mycroft.

“If I was invisible, I could be with you every day and whisper how I love you, every moment without anyone’s notice. That way, I can make sure you never have to feel alone again.”

Mycroft stood with his mouth open as he looked at Greg that was the best thing he ever heard, he didn’t say anything he just pulled Greg close and held him tight.

 


	121. Crafty

** 2.Crafty **

 

Art...yes, this is truly art, a masterpiece that he should invest in...Oh wait he already does.  Mycroft gave a loving sigh with this nostalgic look in his eyes, his mouth in a smile. 

"Mycroft!"  Mycroft jumped as his name was called, oh, the art speaks....beautiful.

"Yes Gregory?"

Greg eyed him over his shoulder his hand outstretched, well if you can call that a hand, as it is black, and shiny and oily and attached to a very good piece of art...no wait...Gregory hates it if he is referred to as 'a piece of'.  He looked up to his face; a black oil streak was across his cheek.  Goodness, if he wasn't appreciating the view so much he would wipe it off...no wait. It contributes to the overall aesthetic value of the man in front of him.

"My...croft..." 

"I said yes." 

"I know, and then I asked you to hand me the filter wrench so I can remove the filter."

Mycroft blinked.

"The say what?  To remove the what?"

"Filter wrench, for the oil filter that I need to replace, put in a new drain plug washer so I can prep the filter."

This is so strange, he is clever, able to speak an impressive of different languages, even if he say's so himself, yet the man is talking a language he has never heard of.. Is that even English?  Greg sighed and leaned over to the side where his toolbox was standing with a wide variety of tools, all shiny and clean and from another planet if Mycroft was too believed.  Greg took out something long and shiny with something on top which moved.  He put the shiny thing on his bike and started twisting it.

"You know, when you said you were going to help me, I’ll admit I was surprised, because I didn't think you know what half of these tools in this box is, besides shiny, and turns out I'm right.  Do you want me to explain the whole thing to you?"  Mycroft turned to Greg who was watching him with a crooked smile, his eyes hiding under strands of his hair that has fallen over. 

Mycroft just nodded.  He would say yes to anything if Greg looks at him like that. 

"Come on.  You need to pay attention okay?"

Oh Gregory the only thing I've been doing since I met you was paying attention; I paid so much I'm in credit for several lifetimes.

"Okay, first thing first, we drained the oil in that pan, for obvious reasons, then we take the filter off, so we can put in this new washer, it is always better safe than sorry, then we put it back, now we need to prep the filter by filing it about a quarter full of fresh oil..."  Mycroft mind opened up as Greg taught him, he watches closely, yet refusing to touch the dirty filter.

"It's not dirty, it’s new."

"Then way rub more oil on the rubber seal?"

"To act as lubricant when it seals, and make it easier to remove it next time."   Greg lost Mycroft hen he said lubricant and all he could think was...well...a different activity besides changing the oil filter.  Yeah, he may not be as crafty as Greg with a wrench and filters, but he got skills... Oh yes he does...

 

 


	122. It's always money

** 3\. It’s always money **

 

Two mugs were ready on the table, one full of tea, the other with coffee the plates were full of bacon, scrambled eggs toast, butter and marmalade to provide a full breakfast.  It was one of the two men’s rare day-off, they were together, and they need those moments to recharge their batteries.  It was perfect.  Greg took a full bite of his food.

“These eggs are delicious Love, if you fail in running Britain love, we could open a little café somewhere far from here.” Greg's cues of appreciation were always so funny that Mycroft couldn't stop a laugh.

“I’m not ruling anything, Gregory, but when it will happen I will remember your appreciation about my breakfast.”

“When?  You seem so be sure it will happen.  Should we have to start saving more money for bad days?” Mycroft raised his eyes from the newspaper he shook his head at Greg. “Don’t be silly.”

He replied as his eyes focus back again on the Financial Times.  Greg left his chair and moved behind his partner's shoulder.  “How is the Stock Exchange today? You should teach me more about finance, or I won’t be able to help you in the café, while you are scrambling eggs... oh look, the Annual Ball for Charity Found for Orphans is next Saturday. It's a good cause, isn't it?”

Mycroft put down the newspaper, saving it for later, his partner was in silly-conversation-mode-on and he drinks those moments between them as a treasure.  The newspaper could wait. “Oh yes.” Greg nodded and the smell of breakfast lured him back to his seat.  Mycroft lifted his cup of tea.

“I'm sorry I forgot to tell you I've got two tickets for that event if you like it we could go.”  Greg stopped mid bite as he stared at Greg.

“To the Charity Ball, together? As a couple?”  Mycroft nodded.

“Are you sure? I thought you prefer a low profile” Greg asked finishing his bacon on his plate.  Mycroft looked at Greg.

“We already send the invitation for the wedding, my dear, no need low profile anymore; probably even the Queen's corgis know I’m getting married”

“The dogs? Does she know? Oh … fuck…okay…”  He took a long sip from the coffee mug to let that sink in while Mycroft had this little smile on his face.  Greg eyed Mycroft with a cheeky smile. “Anyway, if it can't do any harm I accept your date Mr. Holmes!”

“Oh thank you Gregory.”

 

When the couple in their tuxedos made their appearance in the large ballroom several heads turn to look at that attractive man in silver hair and his plus one, both of them have a ring on the left hand, the most shared comment on them by the women in the room was: “it's a pity. Such an attractive man. Out of our league”

 

They were having a beautiful evening together, it was quite late and they were standing near the balcony having a drink and playing their usual game on guessing the people around, a middle aged couple came towards them addressing to Mycroft.

“Mycroft Holmes, it's a pleasure have you here for the first time after so many years.” Mycroft smiled warmly and turned to them.

“Lord and Lady Edgerton, Paul and Camille it's a pleasure for me being here tonight, could I introduce you the Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade from Scotland Yard? My future husband.”  The woman gave Greg a wide smile.  He liked her instantly. 

“Detective Inspector Lestrade, it's an honour meet the man who finally caught Mycroft Holmes.” Greg laughed who look at Mycroft with a smile, Mycroft returned it before Paul asked something about something about politics and he and Mycroft got talking.  Greg turned to Camille.  She glanced at the two men.

“We know Mycroft  since Paul was in Oxford, he's a man with a big heart, he always helped our foundation with a lot of charity, and when he told last week that for the first time he would attend this event with a plus one and that he was going to marry I was really trilled. Not to mention surprised, he never attends, and here he was saying he’ll be there and he won’t be alone.  Paul was so surprised, he nearly ordered me to make sure tonight we just have to meet you.”

Greg let the woman talk about their time in Oxford, his mind focused on her words.  ”Always helped tour foundation with a lot of charity.”   Curious he tried to bring Camille to talk about charity again, he did not know anything about Mycroft involving in it. She looked at him fondly

“Oh yes as you know Mycroft gives to our foundation hundreds of thousands pounds every year, it's a joke between us, when the bank tells me his annual deposit has arrived I call him on the phone telling: “You could buy another house in the centre of London with this amount Mycroft! And he always replies the same.  ‘People may think it’s always money, but in fact is how you use it that makes a difference.’ Isn’t that lovely?”

“Yeah...” Greg replied looking at Mycroft talking about some diplomatic convention to Paul.  Both would take a sip of their wine after a sentence. 

“I’m so in love with him...I mean proud…” He stammered a blush spreading on her cheeks; Camilla started laughing and put her hand on his arm.

“You love him that is good, he needs that, the proud, and the trust…all of those comes automatically as the love is strong.”

“Thank you.  Now come on, let’s go get some wine.  They will find us when they are done.

 


	123. Radio signals

** 4\. Radio signals ** ** **

Greg took a few steady breaths to calm his racing heart; the room was dark and lit only by the sunlight streaming in through the small patches on the windows where the paint has been scraped off.  He got up and stumbled a bit before he found his balance.   His hand moved the back of his head, it was swollen and tender, the cut covered with dry blood. 

The last thing he remembered was that he was at a crime scene and that he noticed a small blood trailed and followed that, it must have been a trap.

He cursed inwardly, as not to make a sound, he has no idea if they were - whoever they are -  were watching him, and he was not in the mood to alert them to his wakeful state. 

He closed his eyes before opening it again and looked around; his eyes were accustomed to the semi light now and could make out furniture out in the room.

He was in some warehouse, garage place; there was a table at one of the room, a metal shelf on the other side.  Greg tilted his head, there were a few things on the shelf, and some of them he must be able to use to get out of this place.

With a slightly wobbly step he made his way to the shelf, there were old radios and empty buckets, old magazines all crap and useless.

He sighed.  There has to be a way, he looked again at the stuff lying around, what is he supposed to do, he is no MacGyver...

Greg stopped and turned to the windows, he picked up some piece of flat metal thing and walked to the window, if he scrapes more of the paint off, he will have better light and maybe even see where he was. With a glance to the door he turned back to the window and started scraping, with every piece of paint falling off, he had a better view outside, as well as inside.

After about thirty minutes, he got real tired and turned around to see his handy work, the place was much lighter than before, smiling he made his way back to the shelf, now that he could see clearer he was much more able to see the stuff lying around.  He moved a few things out of the way and discovers a two way radio. 

If he could somehow succeed in getting it to work he might be able to send out radio signals, someone is bound to found him. 

With a renewed sense of effort he picked it up and looked for a way to charge it, a battery or anything he could use. 

It took nearly an hour of tinkering and connecting wires when he turned the switch on, there was a small orange light and a green light.  He nearly cried out with happiness, he is no expert, but the orange light probably meant that the battery is almost flat, which meant he has one shot.  It needs to count.

He won't even try for Sherlock or Mycroft, he should try the MET's frequency, if a patrol car or unit is out there, that would be is safe bet.

He turned it to the correct frequency. Taking a deep breath he looked to the door and went to stand next to the window.  He was in some storage facility, he could see the London barrier towards his right, a few miles away, and he hoped it was enough.  They should give Sherlock the information.

He switched it on. There was static and then he could hear voices. 

Here goes nothing.


	124. Sophistication

** 5\. Sophistication ** ** **

 

As they say, simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication.  Mycroft and Greg took this to heart and the moment they started to plan for their wedding they both decided on simplicity, no extra flowers and designs to make the place look busy.  No fancy cake decorations and colours, that can compete with a cake decoration cook show or something. 

The wedding cake was a beautiful three layer cake, with two ribbons around each layer, a silver and gold one.

The top had a beautiful simply yet stylish topping.

Everything was beautiful. It was theirs.

Even their house was simply decorated, Greg said no to the knights in shining armour, in the house, he won't have it, Mycroft agreed, reluctantly.  Mycroft said no to a big Arsenal flag against the wall, Greg pouted but gave in.

They didn't went overboard on anything, and when they both just wanted to escape from their jobs, and all the drama outside of the world, they would snuggle on the sofa, some music in the background, or a movie and they would just hold each other, recharge their batteries with smiles, kissed and laughter, with promises of their dreams for the future and with hugs to comfort both.

No extras, just them and the perfect synchronisation of their hearts in one simple beautiful harmonious beat.


	125. Emma

** 6\. Emma ** ** **

The call came out just after lunch, no rush but still important.  Greg and his team made their way to the crime scene.  The body has been dead for years; Most of the flesh was gone small bits remaining on the bones.  It was a woman she was wearing an old dress, from the style Greg knew it was the around the eighties, He recognize the style and jewellery from his younger days. This was going to be difficult 

He watched as they collected the evidence laying around her body, when he saw it, a small necklace with three charms on it.

"Give me that bag please?" He asked and looked at it closer, it was the figure eight, known as the 'infinity' sign, the Celtic tree of life and a small lighthouse.  He frowned.  He recognised it.  Closing his eyes he tried to remember.

_ The music was loud coming from the club; he just started the force and was celebrating his last night before going to the Academy.  He left the club to have a smoke when he saw the young women standing against the wall; she was smiling and next to her feet was a small bag.  She was looking at a map. _

_ "Going somewhere?"  He asked, she jumped but turned to him.  _

_ "I'm eloping with my girlfriend." _

_ Greg smiled. _

_ "Where to?" _

_ "Paris.  She is an artist." _

_ "And you?" _

_ "I'm a singer." _

_ "So where is she?" _

_ "Packing her stuff, I'm meeting her at the station at 11."  Greg looked at his watch, only 10:30. _

_ "What's her name?" _

_ "Tiffany." _

_ "Yours?" _

_ "Emma." _

_ "I'm Greg."  He introduced himself and put out his cigarette, he made his way to her. _

_ "You're lost?" _

_ "I'm not sure which route to take."  Greg took the map and looked at it. _

_ "This one, it is the safest, this one may be shorter but it is a bit shady, especially this time of night, you have half an hour, take this one." _

_ "Okay, thanks."  She smiled at him as he gave her the map.  She was beautiful, and wearing glasses, it brought out her eyes.  Her one hand kept playing with the necklace around her neck. _

_ "What's that?"  He blurted out.  She looked down. _

_ "It's charms." _

_ "I know that, why would you want to wear a number around?" _

_ "It's the infinity sign, see it goes round and round, it means that there is no end.  Tiffany gave it to me, said that's our love, never-ending, and the lighthouse I'm going to give to her, as she is my lighthouse whenever I'm facing a storm.  And the Celtic tree, my mom gave it to me." _

Greg blinked his eyes and the memory was gone, it couldn't be.  Not after all these years.  She was supposed to elope with Tiffany.

"Was there glasses?"

"Yes sir."  One guy answered and handed him the bag, it was the same glasses.

"We can try to find out who she is with the glasses; she has no other identification on her, just an old train ticket in her jacket. 

"To Paris?" he asked and from the look the man gave him, he was right. 

"Her name is Emma."  He closed his eyes it is a small world after all.

The case haunted him, so did Emma and he didn't stop until he solved it, the day he solved it he bought two tickets to Paris, he tracked Tiffany down.  He has no idea if it is the right thing to do, if Tiffany would appreciate this, but the small lighthouse haunted him, it was for her, she deserves to know she wasn't abandoned.  Emma never made it to the train station.

He looked at the door, and squeezed Mycroft's hand.  Mycroft squeezed back and Greg lifted his free hand to knock on the door.  The door opened and Greg looked at the woman, she was beautiful, dark raven hair in waves around her face, bright blue eyes.

"Tiffany?"  He softly asked.

"Yes, can I help you?" 

He held out the small box.

"I was wondering if I cannot maybe help you."  She opened the box and gasped, her eyes filled with tears. 

"Emma."  her voice faltered and Greg knew he did the right thing, he will tell her he met her, he will tell her how happy Emma was to start their new life, he will tell her about the lighthouse, it won’t bring her back, but it may give them both closure.


	126. Page 42

** 7\. Page 42 ** ** **

 

Greg glanced at Mycroft; this was not how they planned to spend their Sunday afternoon.  The plan was in comfortable 'home-clothes' as Greg termed them, watching telly or reading a book, having lunch, all quiet and peaceful.  Instead they were at a small yet comfortable restaurant.   The Holmes parents were in town and insisted on lunch with the four men.  Oh yes, Sherlock and John was included.  Greg could see that both the Holmes children were trying their best to look as if they enjoyed the lovely visit.  Sherlock mumbled something of experiment ruined in the kitchen, John elbowed him.  Greg could relate, sitting here was on the last thing of his mind, and Mycroft's but some duties are more important than saving England. 

Mummy so far was holding up most of the conversation with little input from the rest.  Mycroft as ever the diligent son and diplomat was keeping the peace and asking more questions and responded the most. Greg helped wherever he could.  John tried as well, and because he tried, Sherlock would try to impress him and added as well. 

They somehow got to the conversation about books and autobiographies, Mummy was reading one on some actress and her life awards, and she found it boring. 

They were on their way home, walking down the street when Mycroft stopped and turned to Greg.

"Page 42."  Greg frowned.

"What?"

"My autobiography, if I were to write one, I'll name it page 42."

"Why?"  Greg asked, he thought Mycroft would go into something like, ‘00Mycroft’ or ‘The diaries of the British Government.’  Mycroft knew what he was thinking and rolled his eyes.  Instead he pulled Greg close.

"Because if every chapter of my life represents a year, then my life actually started when I turned 42, cause that is when I met you." 

Greg smiled and hugged Mycroft close, yeah that could work.


	127. Leather binder

** 8\. Leather binder ** ** **

Greg knew that the current case was familiar, everything somehow seemed familiar and yet so new.   There was a case, a few years back, it went unsolved but Greg knew there was a connection. 

That evening he went to look through his old boxes at home, he saved all his notebooks and notes ever since he started in the force, why he had no clue, he felt as though he must. 

There were several boxes and he had no idea how to start.  He picked the first one and started.  Besides for all the small notebooks he carried, most of it was neatly and in a leather binder.  Some old, some cheap, so falling apart, some new.  But it was all there. 

He was so busy that he forgot about his dinner plans with Mycroft, until the man stood in his doorway, holding a bag with take away. 

"Gregory.”  Greg jumped as he looked up to see Mycroft standing there.

"My? What...oh...dinner....tonight..."  Greg trailed off.

"Yes, but you needn't' worry, I cancelled the reservations and instead got us these, difficult case?"

"No, yes, I don't know, sorry about dinner."

"Come on, let’s eat and tell me all about it."

With a nod Greg stood up and made his way over the boxes to Mycroft who turned and walked to the kitchen.

Several minutes later they were sitting at the table, food on their plates and wine in their glasses.  Greg took a few bites before he started talking.

"We have a case, and something seems familiar."

"Familiar?" Greg nodded and went on.

"Yeah, as I've seen it before, the dress, the victim was wearing, and since I saved all my notebooks I thought if I find the correct one, I'll be able to know."

"Do you need help?"  Mycroft asked, he knew about nearly all the cases Greg did since they've met, but the chance to go through his old files and notes, to deduce the man in front of him with the past was an opportunity he couldn't let go.  Greg must have realised what Mycroft's intentions were as he started laughing softly.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Cause you just can't wait to read my old notes, read me in the torn paper, deduces me in the coffee stains."

Mycroft didn't answer but smiled back.

"I'll admit, it is a wonderful opportunity."

"Yeah, let's finish dinner and we can go." 

After nearly two hours of sifting through notebooks and binders, Greg got his answer and Mycroft learned a ton of new things.

 


	128. Catastrophe

** 11\. Catastrophe ** ** **

The case was a difficult one, a whole family was killed and it drained everyone involved.  Even Sherlock was quiet and distant.  John took him home with the idea to keep an eye on him.  Greg nodded and made his way home as well.  Mycroft would not be back from wherever he was until tomorrow, but he promised he would be okay.  Sherlock walked halfway to the door before he turned around and grabbed Greg by the arm and dragged him with them.

"Sherlock...?"

"Mycroft is only back tomorrow, you can sleep on the sofa.  John will order some food for us."  Giving up Greg followed the Yard to the cab, he did not put up much of fight, if he was honest, and he didn't really wanted to be alone tonight.

An hour later they were all seated in the living room, Sherlock folded on his chair with a container, John in his and Greg on the sofa, the smell of chips in the air.  The telly was on, but no one was watching, it just drowned away the silence. 

All three of them ate as if it was the hardest thing to do, in a way it was.  They were tired, but none of them was going to sleep, not without having some feeling of peace.  Greg would only get that if he was safe in bed with Mycroft's arms around him, so tomorrow then. 

Greg's container was half empty when they heard the front door opened.  Probably Mrs. Hudson.  Sherlock stopped chewing, tilting his head to listen and then he smiled softly while glancing at Greg.  A few seconds later the figure stepped into the room Greg turned to the man and his face lit up.  Mycroft stood there in the doorway; he nodded to both his brother and John and moved to sit next to Greg. 

He briefly kissed Greg on the side of his face, where the hair meets skin as he sat down.

"Gregory."  His voice was soft. 

"Hi Love."  Greg replied, his voice raspy and close to breaking.  He held out the container and Mycroft picked up the spare fork and started eating.  Greg started eating as well, somehow with more energy than before.

Sherlock broke the silence when they were all done eating.  There was a spring roll left in the table and he picked it up and handed it to Mycroft.

"Thank you Sherlock."  He answered as he ate that.

"You slipped past the security to come home, wouldn't that be a catastrophe?"  Sherlock asked, without any of his normal bite and snarl.  Mycroft smiled his eyes on Greg.

"I think the only catastrophe would to fail being where I am needed the most." 


	129. Orange fizz

12\. Orange fizz

 

 

 

Greg should stop, he know he should, but for some reason he couldn't, or more accurately, didn't want to. He and Mycroft had another fight at the function and Greg stormed off. It isn't very nice to find out, that the only reason you were brought to the function was to ward off the women who tried to get Mycroft's attention. He was, in effect, arm candy. He looked at Mycroft smiled and asked permission to go to the bathroom. Petty, yes, did he care? No.

Mycroft tried to smooth it over but Greg just let go of his arm and walked away. He did go to the bathroom and on his way back he noticed the bar. Open bar. 

The bartender handed the girl next to him something in a tall glass, it was orange and fizzy and it looked good. 

"Can I have one of those please?" He asked pointing to the glass.

"A blood orange tequila fizz?"

"Yes please." It sounded wonderful, blood orange that is a cool word, tequila, which is so much better than beer right now and fizz, he can do that. Some Orange fizz, it was a cocktail, and since he was practically Mycroft's arm candy, it would only do, to order a cocktail. That was his reasoning, maybe not the best, but he was angry.

The bartender handed him his glass and he took a sip.

"Oh." It was good, it was so much better than a beer. He took another sip, oh it was delicious. This one was not going to last, he should order another one.

"Can I have another?" He asked as he drank more of the one in his hand, it was already half empty. He sagged on the barstool, the drink in hand, the small umbrella lying on the counter. He picked it up and twirled it. The bloody idiot, with his bloody umbrella, and bloody suit and the bloody great arse, and he is angry, so he would sit her with his bloody orange fizz drink, with tequila, and it is nice. He was going to sit here until he feels better and can deal with the man.

He finishes the first one and pulled the second one closer.

"Cocktails Gregory?" The voice whispered in his ear and Greg jumped, he would've slipped from the barstool if Mycroft wasn't holding him tight to him. He was standing behind Greg, with Greg's back against Mycroft chest. It was warm. So warm.

"I'm angry at you." Greg replied and took another sip.

"I know, and I would like to apologise and maybe explain a bit better can we go to a more private location?"

Greg took a breath; he should allow the man an explanation.

"As soon as I drank my Orange fizz, it is very good."

"It is also loaded with tequila."

Greg smiled.

"I know this is what makes the Orange fizz so good."

Mycroft smiled softly and waited patiently for Greg to finish his drink. Greg stood up from the table and walked with Mycroft to the waiting car. He can’t really be angry, he understands why Mycroft did it, he just wished that wasn't the only reason Mycroft brought him, and they have been dating for a few months now. 

Once in the car Mycroft leaned over and kissed Greg, it was desperate and passionate. "You will never be just arm candy to me, ignore that silly woman and her remarks, to me you are everything, and I brought you so that everyone can see how lucky I am, to have you on my side." Greg tried to catch his breath, he looked at Mycroft.

"I'm sorry I acted so childish, won’t happen again." Mycroft smiled and held him close.

"I know. I care deeply for you, and next time I will be more honest. Can we kiss now again?"

Greg nodded.

"Yeah, you taste better than Orange fizz anyway."

 

 


	130. ALL CAPS

** 9\. ALL CAPS ** ** **

Greg was standing with his phone ready; he was sitting back against the sofa, looking expectantly at Mycroft.  

"You want me to start now?"

"Yes."  Greg replied and Mycroft looked back at his phone.  Greg had insisted that he gets a social media outlet; he was friendly persuaded between Twitter and Instagram.  He opted for Twitter, that way no pictures were necessary.  He was also limited to 140 characters, which seems like a lot, but in actual fact. It wasn't.  You can hardly write two complete proper grammatical sentences. 

He looked at the twitter name Greg chose, Tooimportanttoname @umbrellaswords.  It was ridiculous.  Then again, he could not actually use Mycroft Holmes, or British Government like Greg wanted so he added this as a joke, he knows he could change the name later one, but umbrallaswords is permanent.  It could be worse.  He had a total of 1 follower and 1 following, both the same person.  Gregory. 

He looked at Greg who was still waiting expectantly.

"You want me to send you a message."

"Not a DM, just a tweet for now."

"Tweet, Sherlock tweets...Not...of for goodness sakes, he started typing.  Pressing send and then he watched Greg. The beep sounded loud and Greg smiled wickedly as he looked at the message.

@GregLestrade IS THIS FINE?

"It’s all caps love."

"And?" Mycroft asked.

"If you write something and it is all in caps it means you’re screaming, you usually do that in a fight. Or when you have something extremely important to say."

"But everything I say is important." Mycroft countered and Greg chuckled, that's true.  He typed back. 

Mycroft looked at his phone and opened the app.

@umbrellaswords don’t yell, I'm right here ;)

"Emoticons?  Really?"  Greg narrowed his eyes and typed, Mycroft's phone beeped with another notifications, Mycroft looked down to see it was nothing but emoticons, hearts, smileys facing a kissing smiley, one with hearts instead of eyes, flowers he just stared and blinked until Greg burst out laughing.  He was really enjoying this.  Instead of replying Mycroft pulled Greg closer and kissed the arrogant smile away.  Greg didn't mind.

The next day Greg was at work when he received a notification.  He looked at his phone.

@GregLestrade I heart you.  And there was an emoticon of two men holding hands.  Greg's day was much better afterwards.


	131. Unreliable witness

10\. Unreliable witness

Greg was sitting back, enjoying the show. He was at Baker Street, John was at the clinic and he brought a case over for Sherlock. He was halfway done explaining the case when Mycroft showed up the two of them started with their usual sibling rivalry, slash let's play who is smarter than you and Greg decided that for once, he was not going to stand in the way or try to break it up. That would just cause more problems, since Mycroft and he started dating. Sherlock would go off on a rant about that and Greg wasn't in the mood for that.

So he sat back on the sofa, crossed his legs and arms and waited. Halfway during the fight he got a little side tracked by his boyfriend's arse. It looks spectacular in that suit, Mycroft was wearing navy blue suit, in the most softest material, he was sure of it. The way the light from the window caught that curve was just breath-taking. Not to mention that Mycroft was standing straight, posed for action. One foot a little to the front that brought back his attention to the long legs, it looked longer in this pose, and Greg knew first-hand how those long legs can wrapped around a body, the strength it has when it locks you...

"Lestrade!" Greg shook as he looked at Sherlock.

"What?" From the looks of it, they have been trying to get his attention for a while now...oops..."

"What are you doing?"

Greg cleared his throat, how does one tell your partner's little brother that he was thinking of the said partner long legs, and curvy arse?

"Waiting for you two to stop bickering?" He opted for. Mycroft and Sherlock frowned.

"Gregory, we stopped three minutes ago, whereas Sherlock tried to get your attention."

Oops.

"Uuuh..."

Sherlock made a gagging noise.

"You were undressing my brother weren't' you?"

"Well not undressing per say...admiring...would..."

"Oh God, just shut up." Greg looked to Mycroft and shrugged, Mycroft tried to keep the smile off his face, but he had as much luck as with the blush...none.

Sherlock threw the file towards Greg.

"The house keeper is an unreliable witness, you should talk to the gardener, and they are sleeping together and both in it together, now get out, both of you."

Dutifully Greg stood up.

"Thanks."

Mycroft followed him down the stairs and pulled his arm to the black car, Greg climbed in behind him and the door hardly closed when he was straddled on the chair.

"What exactly did you imagine Inspector?"

"Oh...god..." Greg moaned before pulling him closer and kissed him.


	132. Camp

** 13\. Camp **

 

When Greg finally moved in with Mycroft, it was a quick and easy move, no furniture, just boxed.  A few with his vinyl albums, cd’s, his favourite collections of books, his trusty guitar and all the family secrets known as the albums.  Pages and pages of old photos, acting as black mail material or evidence of a good life, whatever your viewpoint is. 

He didn’t tell Mycroft about the album, no Mycroft discover that gem while trying to find a place for his books, close to be in reach but far enough form his collection – all first edition of ‘Old Greek Philosophy’ after all ‘The history of rock and roll’ deserves a shelf on its own. 

He reach back into the box and discovered an album, he smiled as he took it out of the box.

“Look at this Gregory; it is one of your old photo albums…”

That is how Greg found himself on the sofa next to Mycroft with an open album, the unpacking forgotten.  Mycroft was entranced with the photos; it was Gregory, his Gregory in his youth.  There was one in his school uniform, first day of school, another when he was about ten holding a football as if was a trophy, there was one when he was a teenager, on his first motorbike, the next pages where he was at some sort of camp, sitting around the fire all smiling.  Greg took it out and looked at the back.

“Devonshire Summer 1984.  Oh now this brings back memories.” Greg was smiling and excited, his eyes sparkling as he thought back.

“It was a great summer, look that’s Mike, Paul, Josh, Susan and…I don’t remember her name, she was Paul’s girlfriend at the time, well not after the camp but…” Greg trailed off; Mycroft was watching the photos as if it held the secrets to the universe, and he read every person trying to imagine Greg’s life before he showed up, or Sherlock or the police force.  He watched the last one.

“What were you doing around the fire, were you guys camping?”  Greg put the photo down turning to Mycroft.

“Have you never been camping?  Not even with your parents?”

Mycroft shook his head.

“What about university, didn’t you go out with them?”

“Yes, but we would meet up and discussed classes and lessons and everyone would go home afterwards.

“Oh.” Greg replied, not sure what to say now.  Mycroft sensed his discomfort.

“Tell me more about the camping trips; did you and your friends do it a lot? Did you just sit around the fire?”

“No, we usually went in the summer, we would hike a bit, but mostly it was an excuse to be out of the parent’s eyes.  We would eat - a lot, make out – a lot and drink, also a lot.  Snogging was the main reason to go out there.” 

Mycroft listened and looked at the people in the photograph again.

“Did you go on a lot of these camping trips?”  There must have been something in Mycroft’s voice that Greg didn’t like, for he put it away and stood up, picking up his guitar.

“Yeah enough times, so where should I put my baby?”  Greg was feeling uncomfortable; Mycroft didn’t ask him who his partner was in that photograph, especially since there were a lot more men on these camping trips.  He didn’t want to upset Mycroft and his lack of questions in that department, may have made him uncomfortable, he never had an opportunity like that, he never went on trips like that, had that carefree of youth, and Greg was feeling a little guilty that he missed it, even now.

 

It was about a month later, a warm June and Mycroft was called away abroad, he was packing his things with Greg getting ready in the bathroom.

“So you will be back on Friday, the afternoon right?”  Mycroft turned to respond glancing over his shoulder.

“Yes, the meeting will end around lunch; I’ll be back in the late afternoon, early evening at the latest.”

“Right.” Greg replied.  Mycroft smiled softly.

“You needn’t worry, I will not forget our anniversary, and I’ve taken the weekend off as you requested, pending world catastrophes, I’m all yours.”

 

Mycroft finally arrived when the clock showed six, as soon as he entered the door, he was met by Greg, kissing him hello.

“Hello.” Mycroft greeted as soon as Greg let go.

“Hey Love, now I’ve arranged a surprised for you, so I’ll unpack while you have a quick shower.” Greg didn’t give him the chance to reply as he dragged him up the stairs.  As promised Greg unpacked while Mycroft had a quick shower.  Greg watched as Mycroft came back to see the clothes put out on the bed for him.  He raised his eyebrows staring at Greg who stared back.  He did point his hand to show he must hurry up.  Resigned Mycroft put on the clothes; it was a pair of comfortable jeans, an old t-shirt and his sneakers.   The laces were barely tied when Greg grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door.

Mycroft was feeling excited and wonderfully surprised as Greg lead him to the back of the house, he opened the patio doors and stepped out.  Mycroft stared at the sight in front of him; there in his back garden in the corner away from prying eyes was a tent.  A big camping tent.  He turned to Greg, who stared at him as if he won the lotto.

“You told me you have never went camping before, which means you never roasted marshmallows around a fire, snogged your partner under the stars, got tangled up in a sleeping bag or did any of the things that go with camping, so I thought we could have a little break away in the back garden.”

Mycroft had no words, so he pulled Greg in a tight hug and walked to the tent.  He was going camping.

 

 


	133. Downloading

** 14\. Downloading **

Greg was sitting, more laying down on the sofa, his feet up and crossed at the ankles, there was some football match playing on the telly, the sound soft, meaning it acted as a background noise and that was it.  Mycroft put down the mug in front of Greg and leaned over, kissing him gently.

“What are you doing?”

Greg kissed him back before he moved to the side so Mycroft could sit next to him. 

“Hi Love, I’m downloading some new songs on my phone, we have a stakeout, later this week, and I want some new tunes to keep me busy, this one site is great, easy downloading, and superfast.”   Mycroft frowned,

“Gregory?”

“Hmm?  Aaah look, they got the remastered copy of the Live performance of David Essex, silver dream machine…nice…”

“The what?” 

“Silver Dream machine, it was the theme song in the movie Silver Dream Racer, it was about this young man trying to win a race with this motorcycle, it belonged to his brother, but his brother died, anyway, he beat the odds and this one song played.”

Mycroft sighed, a movie about a motorbike…he should’ve know, although the name sounds familiar of the artist.  Ah yes, his mom was a great fan of David Essex and his music.   He cleared his throat and turned back to Greg.

“Gregory, isn’t it illegal?”

“What?”  Greg asked and bit his lip; he knew what Mycroft was referring to.

“Downloading songs and movies…and so on?”  Greg raised his eyebrows as he turned to Mycroft.

“Are you going to call the cops on me?”

“I think I should inform someone, a citizen’s arrest, it would greatly improve my Transport official image.”  Mycroft joked back, Greg smile became cocky.

“What are you going to do arrest me?” 

“Yes.”  Before Greg knew it, his hand was in cuff – his cuff – and Mycroft cuffed the other link to his arm.  Greg looked down in surprised as their cuffed hands.  He looked up at Mycroft.

“This is opening up a whole new level of opportunities.”  Mycroft blushed.

“I didn’t think of that.”  He confessed and Greg laughed out louder before he pulled Mycroft onto his lap.

“This is a bit hot, you know.”

“Hmmm.”  Mycroft hummed as he just settled deeper onto Greg, cupping his head to kiss him.  Greg loved the idea of downloading songs a lot more than normal.

 


	134. My first time

** 15\. My first time **

 

The moonlight casting soft streaks of light into the room, the curtains open, neither man minded since the view is their private Garden and both knew for a fact no one could see in.  Mycroft and Greg were safe under the blanket, their bodies still warm and hearts beating fast.  They held each other with strength and tenderness. 

“This is one of the most perfect moments in my life.”   Greg whispered, afraid that if he speaks to loud, his voice will break the spell of the moment.  His breath caught the hair in the back of Mycroft’s neck, tickling his skin.  He squeezed Greg’s hand in his.

“I know what you mean, although every moment with you, is a moment to treasure.  Your presence soothes my soul like nothing can, which is strange, no one else in my entire life could make me feel like this.”  Mycroft replied just as softly, his voice had a small hint of pain in it, that Greg frowned.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but no one, not even with past relationships?”  Mycroft shook his head.

“No, most certainly not them.  They were all experiences I wish I could forget.”

Greg frowned; he didn’t like the sound of that, it made him sad, and angry.  He kissed the freckled shoulder in front of him.

“Not even your first?”  He asked, very softly, afraid that he might be walking on a path, they both should rather avoid.

“That would be the one I would like to forget the most.”  Greg tensed with that and Mycroft felt the stiffening of his body.

“It wasn’t like that, my dearest.”  He tried soothingly.

“Oh.”

“My first time…well you know how some men, and women seemed to be the most sincere, kindest and genuine, that they are so charming and delightful that you can’t help but to be taken in?  The do everything right, they say the right thing, they support you when you need it, and they charm you, when you feel down but in the end it was all a game, the prize?  To get in your pants.”

“I’m sorry.”  Greg wished he could take it away, no one deserves to be treated like that, to be some sort of end prize, his first time, wasn’t much better but at least he wasn’t a pawn.

“You have nothing to apologize for; you are too kind to say sorry for a man like that.”

“What happened?”

“The next morning it was all; ‘that was fun while it lasted’ and he took off, trying to get a new prize.”

Greg tugged at Mycroft until he was facing him, his hand on his cheek, his eyes staring into his.

“You will never be just a prize to me, or just a prize, you are priceless, no amount of charm, money or whatever unit you want to measure it with, will ever be enough to compare to you.” Mycroft stared in his eyes, seeing the intensity, feeling the warmth and strength radiating of him, embracing him until all he could feel was love.  He pulled Greg close.

“I love you.”  He whispered in the dark.

 


	135. Feint, margin

 

** 16\. Feint margin **

Greg stood in the aisle, his eyes scanning the stationary shelves.  He had to buy a new notebook for his work, as his was nearly finished.  The last time he bought, was quite some time ago, and always at the nearest corner shop.  He even sent Sally once or twice to buy him, whenever she went shopping and she usually bought him a stack of two or three. 

He and Mycroft decided to do their own grocery shopping; Mycroft was staying over at his for the weekend so they decided on getting a few things for the stay.  Mycroft wandered off to the wine section and Greg decided to go get a new notebook, while he was there. 

The problem is variety. He never knew there was such a huge variety of notebooks, not to mention the colours and design, there was with small lock, a rubber band to keep it together, spiral ones, soft cover, hard cover, big and small, plain white paper, some with the lines, the feint margin ones, the ones with both combined.  He was quite in awe. 

“What are you looking for?”  Mycroft asked as he appeared next to greg, two bottles of wine in his hands.

“I need a new notebook, and I didn’t know there was such a variety these days, some even have a build in calculator, comes with its own pen… what happened to the good old notebooks we had back in the day? I mean with books like this, I would’ve enjoyed school more.”

“You just wanted the Arsenal themed ones.”

“True.”  Greg nodded.

Mycroft stepped closer and picked up the normal plain black notebook, it did have a small rubber around it, to keep it together.

“Here you go.”

“Can I have the ‘Doctor Who one, with the blinking pen in the shape of a sonic screwdriver?”  Greg asked with mischief in his eyes.

“No.”

“The pain. The horror.”  Greg sighed deeply, trying his best to look heartbroken.  Mycroft rolled his eyes and put the notebooks in the trolley.  They started walking down the aisle.

“You know if we buy the pirate one for Sherlock and the DocMcstuffins one for John, we can rule the crime scenes.”

“I know I just couldn’t leave the three of you with that power.”  Mycroft deadpanned. 

 


	136. S.o.s.

** 17\. S. O. S **

 

The French wanted to revolt – again, the Americans wanted to go in gun blazing into a sensitive joint operations with England.  Some sheik in some country didn’t understand that no he is not entitled to borrow Heathrow for his son to learn flying lesson.  A young and upcoming lawyer in Egypt is trying to get the right for the Egyptian mummies, so he can take them home.  It is apparently his ancestors.  Needless to say, Mycroft was not having the best of days.

He had endless meetings this day, and his diplomatic skills were running so low, he could practically start a new ice age with the minus numbers.  On top of that there was another operation that failed, miserably and he needed to do damage control.  So far five lives were already lost.  He had a pounding headache and just wanted to stab someone with his umbrella, he didn’t even felt the need to remove the blade, no he wanted to stab them with the whole thing. 

It was already late afternoon, and there was no end in sight to his problems, he hasn’t eaten the whole day, so his blood sugar was running a bit low as well. 

Finally around four he asked just for ten minutes in his office alone.  He just wanted to lay his head on the desk and breathe without losing it.  Ten minutes it was all he asked.

It lasted three minutes when the beep came. He groaned and looks at the text, his frown disappeared and a smile graced his lips.

_ “He Love.  Just wanted to say I miss you and Love you and look in the bottom drawer in the small black tin. GL” _

He didn’t wait as he opened the drawer and picked up the tin, it wasn’t very big, about ten inches by five.  He opened it.  On top was a note. ‘SOS cookies, cause prison orange is not my colour’ Mycroft chortled at that, only Gregory, who should know he will never be caught.  Still he opened the packet; it was a mixture of his favourite cookies, chocolate bites and nougat.  Mycroft took out the dark chocolate covered cherry and bit into it.  It was delicious and so fresh, meaning it was placed there recently.  Today.  Anthea and Greg the two conspirators. Right now he couldn’t find it in him to mind.

 


	137. Borrowed

** 18\. Borrowed **

 

When Mycroft came home he had a small box tucked under his arm.  Greg eyed and didn’t even try to pronounce the label on the side.

“That is quite a name for a pizza box.”  He dryly commented and Mycroft handed him the box.

“Open it.  It’s for the wedding.”

Greg smiled gleefully and opened it immediately, Mycroft watched his face at the contents and it didn’t disappoint.  It was beautiful and Greg stared, his hand slowly reaching out to touch the fabric, it was hesitant.  He looked up at Mycroft.

“Exactly what is it that I’m caressing so softly?”  Mycroft chuckled.

“It is our pants for the wedding, the rhyme is something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue right, so I ordered us this custom made midnight satin pants with matching blue sapphire cufflinks.”  Greg stared and blinked and stared some more.

“You got us custom made pants, matching pants?”  Mycroft nodded.

“I don’t think my package has ever been treated to such luxury.”  Mycroft rolled his eyes at that and opened the small box inside it, showing Greg the cufflinks.  He took one and held it next to Mycroft’s face.

“It matched your eyes perfectly, although if I have to choose it would be your eyes over the jewellery.”  Mycroft pulled him closer.

“You are such a charmer.”

“You bring it out in me.” Mycroft pulled Greg closer for a soft kiss.  When he pulled away he put the cufflinks back in the box.  Greg touched the satin again.

“Can’t wait to see you in this…anyway so we have something blue, what about the other?”

“Well our tuxedos will be new…”  Greg nodded, their tuxes are specially made and they have just been to the measurements yesterday. 

“And the old?”  Greg asked and Mycroft hesitated before he took out a small wooden chest from his inside pocket. 

“I borrowed this from my father; it was the box where he kept his ring and my mums until the wedding day.”  He handed it to Greg who delicately opened the lid.  It was outlined with black satin and two grooves where the rings were. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“He made it.  He said I can use it for my wedding, for our wedding.” Greg took a deep breath, this was a beautiful gift and it was perfect.  He swallowed the lump and looked up at Mycroft who was having similar trouble with keeping their emotion in check.

“It is…hell Love…” Mycroft covered Greg’s hands with his, the small wooden chest in the middle.

“I know…I know.” 

They stood there just enjoying the moment when Greg asked.

“And the borrowed?”

“That is…well, we don’t need a wedding car to take us to the airport.”

“Huh?”

“Mrs Hudson is borrowing us her car to drive us to the airport, where she will take it back and we will fly to our destination.

“Okay…last time she was still a bit…” Greg tried but didn’t get very far, Mycroft smiled and answered.

“She hates me, but it is to say thank you that I saved her life and paid for the renovation of the flat.  It makes us now even.”  

Greg pulled him closer, holding him tight. 

“It’s okay; it is a new beginning for all of us.”  Mycroft didn’t reply as he just held him closer. He couldn’t wait to marry this amazing man.

 

 


	138. Apathy

** 19\. Apathy **

_ “Teach me to feel again, in all the ways that I’ve forgotten.” J.M. Green _

Greg was at a crossroads, he has been trying to get Mycroft to go out with him for a while now, and it seemed like a just impossible task on another.  He had tried so hard so him that it was okay to have feelings, to have friends to have people who cared for you.  It is not a bad thing, no matter how Mycroft believed it to be.  After so many years of coffee and lunch Greg had somehow managed to thaw the Antarctic gale of apathy to a warm and soft breeze that would crumble the pain and loneliness that they both would feel when alone. 

It all went well, until that one fortunate day when an attempt was made on his life.  It was made to look like a normal accident, the car hit his on the back which made his car off balance and hitting the pavement became airborne before it crashed and rolled down the small slope off the highway where it came to land on its roof under the bridge.  Greg was very lucky he survived.  The seatbelt kept him in place and the airbags on both sides cushioned his tumble.  He was unconscious for two day, a few cracked ribs, and a broken leg a broken wrist and some bruised muscles would make sure he stays in hospital and home for a few weeks. 

It was thanks to Sherlock and Mycroft’s investigation that the truth was revealed.  Greg was a pressure point, one easily to eliminate.  Mycroft hasn’t been to visit Greg ever since the revelation.  His guilt overwhelming and closing the door to their relationship, reopening the one for the ice to come over and freeze everything. 

Greg had sent a few texts to Mycroft, asking him to stop by, to stay strong, begging him not to turn his back on what they had; he would survive through ten car crashes if that is what it would take to have Mycroft in his life.  Mycroft hasn’t replied.

Sherlock and John helped him home after two weeks in the hospital; the flat seemed more empty, sad and cold than an empty fridge on a month’s ends salary.  So far he hasn’t talked to anyone besides the normal ‘thank you’ and ‘please.’ When John asked if they should stay the night he gave them one glare that made his opinion clear.  He wants no one – except one – which still hasn’t made a sound.

Greg fell asleep on the bed, the pillows high so he was half sitting.  It was dark; the only light was the small bedside lamp casting long shadows and a golden hue on everything.  Greg turned to his side to see Mycroft sitting on the bed, his legs crossed the golden light illuminating his tears and tear tracks in a shiny path.  

“My?” Greg’s voice was hoarse from the little use these past few weeks.  Mycroft stared at him his eyes wide and Greg inhaled sharply by the expression in them.

“You taught me how to feel again in all the ways I have forgotten, you were like a global warming phenomenon, melting the ice age of my life into something beautiful, and it nearly cost you your life, and I am scared, I can’t let you lose your life, when you gave me mine.” 

Greg reached out his free hand and pulled Mycroft close, their faces mere inches away, he softly kiss each tear track his eyes just as bright with unshed tears.

“I meant it; I would go through a thousand crashes and survive each one stronger than before if I can have a moment with you.  I can only live a life worthwhile when it’s with you.”  Mycroft choked back a sob and collapsed next to him on the bed, his hand in Greg’s, his head next to him.  They looked at each other in the soft glow.  They can survive this.  They will survive this and any other obstacle life throws at them. 

 


	139. Diet

**20\. Diet**

 

Irony, maybe its life way of being sarcastic. After all, after years of trying to tell Mycroft he doesn’t need to go on a diet, that he is perfect the way he is and so on, who ends up with the order to go on a diet? Yes. Greg. 

 

He went to his usual routine check-up when the doctor noticed that his cholesterol was a bit high, not dangerously I’m going to have a heart attack in the next week, but still. Above 60% for serious health problems in the next three years, unless he starts immediately to make the necessary changes. Greg stared at the doctor for five minutes before he left his shoulders lower than the steps he made. He can just imagine Mycroft’s response, he would probably have personal trainer and a personalised diet mapped out in less than an hour. No chips, no red meat, so steak is out. No more take-away, more fresh fruit and salad, more fish, no more bacon and egg breakfast sandwich but oatmeal. Oatmeal! 

 

With all honesty he would rather spend an hour with Sherlock than that. Then again Sherlock might raise his blood pressure which would make his cholesterol worse. Irony…life’s big sarcastic comment. 

 

As predicted Mycroft worry and concern started immediately and it only took thirty minutes to arrange the personal trainer, the diet was on their fridge with two magnets the next morning. The oatmeal on the table with a glass of orange juice. Mycroft sat at the table, his glass half and his oatmeal nearly finished. Greg dropped in the seat like melted butter on the floor. 

 

 

 

Two weeks, Greg has been on his diet for two weeks and he lost four pounds, he looked like an apple and a bowl of oatmeal. He was so used to the taste of chicken and fish for dinner that he almost forgot what a steak looked like. It was made worse that Mycroft was out of the country for these past four days and he promised Mycroft he would stay true to the diet. 

 

He texted Mycroft.

 

“ _Tesco’s has a special on their angel nougat cookies; I’m going to buy some GL”_

 

**“No. it’s not in your diet MH”**

 

_“Come on, I’ve been true for three weeks now, I think I can reward myself with a small cookie. GL”_

 

**“My dearest, you are not a dog who needs rewarding. I’ll make it up to you when I get back. MH”**

 

_“But you always say I have the best puppy dog eyes you have ever seen. GL”_

 

**“Trust me. Keep it up. MH”**

 

“ _You can be glad I love you as much as I do. GL”_

 

He didn’t buy the cookies.

 

 

 

He was coming back today and they had plans to go out for dinner at a well-known restaurant. Greg was very happy to see Mycroft back and going out, he wondered if he could get away with ordering something different than chicken strips or baked fish. 

 

They sat in their private booth Mycroft took his hand before he kissed it.

 

“I really missed you. Also I hope you didn’t mind me order before we entered. The chef is having a special tonight and I thought we should support him.” 

 

“It’s fine.” Greg replied, he wanted to say something else but that look Mycroft was giving him was playing with him mind. It was between amusement and surprise. 

 

Right then the most amazing smell drafted through the air and the chef put two plates on their table. Greg stared. It was the juiciest steak he has ever seen. He looked up at Mycroft.

 

“You taught me that a diet is only as good when it is a lifestyle change, with small cheating moments in-between, so I think that once or twice a month we can as you say ‘go wild’ and what better way than a good dinner, with good wine and desert?” 

 

Greg smiled. It sounded perfect.

 

 


	140. I will never regret

**24\. I will never regret**

The first time Anthea noticed the tall brunette with a red jacket and high heels getting outside the court building with Sgt Donovan, Anderson and her Detective Inspector. She narrowed her eyes at the woman when she suddenly burst out laughing when DI Lestrade said something that was obviously hilarious to her. Anthea's whole body tensed, her 'spider sense' as Greg would call it was on alert. High alert.

A few days later she saw the brunette again was at a crime scene she was struggling to get the forensic overalls over her dress, and heels, heels! At a crime scene! She did not even trying to hide the fact that her dress was rising quite high on her thighs in front of everyone, especially Lestrade, if he wasn't such a gentleman and keeping her eyes focused on her face, he would see a good show. Anthea looked at her phone, the woman's whole profile on her phone; she was the new ballistic expert. She looked up just as she burst out laughing; Anderson was quite close to her. Greg laughed with them, but she could see he looked a bit uneasy. Anthea was not a happy camper, not with this new 'bimbo' on the scene, and not so close to hér DI. He is the only man in the whole world who made her boss happy. Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade was Mycroft Holmes' partner, and that made him not only her boss's DI, but hers as well. This 'female' flirting with him was unacceptable. In the meantime, she was just going to keep an eye one her.

Two weeks later Mycroft asked her to pick up Gregory, they were to have lunch at the Diogenes and he was stuck in a conference call and Greg's car went for a service. She arrived a bit early and on and it just so happened that she passed the ballistics lab…it was empty… Anthea frowned and made her way to Greg's office. The door was half closed and she faltered in her step when she heard that 'female' laugh. She knocks on the door and opened it, without waiting. Greg was sitting behind his desk and Sally and Female was in front of the desk, looking at the reports on his table. Shé was sitting on the edge of the desk, her legs folded and skirt rising up her thigh. Anthea looked at Greg.

"Shall we go?" Greg looked up to her with a smile, before he could answer Sally got up.

"Hi." She greeted and turned back to Greg.

"Since you're off to lunch with Big Brother's bulldog…" Anthea was about to say something when she caught Sally's eye, it wasn't meant as an insult, Sally said it on purpose for 'Female' sake. She found some new respect for Sgt Donovan. Undeterred Sally grabbed the 'female' by the arm.

"We will continue this later. Enjoy lunch." Without looking at Anthea, Sally moved past her, with her on her heels, her perfume assaulting Anthea and she wanted to would rather go smell some blue cheese than this sickly sweet assaulting smell, what is that? Eu de fake?

Greg slowly got up and picked up his phone and jacket, not bothering to talk to her, her anger clearly visible and he didn't want to upset her more, whatever it is, he has a feeling it involved him somehow. Anthea ignored him as they moved to the car, she was still too furious to talk.

She waited till they were both seated in the car; she didn't pick up her blackberry. She stared at Greg, her gaze colder than ice. Greg shifted in his seat.

"We have to talk."

"Ooookay." He drawled out. Taking a breath he tried again.

"Is Mycroft okay?"

"He is fine, waiting for you. Before I drop you off…you have been dating Mr. Holmes for about ten months right?" Greg shifted in his seat.

"Yes. What is the meaning of this?" She held up her hand.

"Do you love him?"

"Of course I do! What is going on?" Greg was getting real angry with this; he doesn't need the third degree, not from her. She just looked at him.

"Are you sure?"

For bloody hell.

"Yes, and you now what? I don't have to explain my feeling for him to you, of all the people in the world, not to you."

"You were married before to a woman."

"Brilliant deduction. Good for you." Greg replied sarcastically. Anthea narrowed her eyes.

"You also have been in several relationships with men before your marriage and afterwards." Greg leaned forward, his irritation giving way to full on anger.

"If you are insinuating that I'm some kind of man who just go around shagging everything that moves you better keep it to yourself, now if you have something to say, say it, otherwise you can keep your mouth shut, I'm used to driving with you in silence and right now I prefer it."

Anthea slightly relaxed her posture slightly but not her voice.

"I'm insinuating nothing, however I do find it a matter of concern that your presence these days are filled with a colleague with all intent and purposes to flirt and seduce you, now you are a very attractive man with a lot to offer and my concern is that whether you are aware of this situation, perhaps even regretting becoming involved with Mycroft." Greg stared at her, his anger gone but left with a heavy feeling of disappointment.

"You really think I'd hurt Mycroft like that? That I'm that shallow?"

"She can give you a different life than what Mycroft could." Greg sagged down in his seat, turning his head to look out the window. It is no secret that he wanted a family, kids and all of that, but he knew that somehow that is not in the cards for him. He rested his head against the headrest, the fight left his body.

"I know she flirting Anthea, but you can check, I have been very careful in making sure we are never alone together, not because I don't trust myself, but because I don't trust her, nor will put Mycroft in a position where office rumours might start. I know what life I could have with her, everybody knows that I wanted kids and my wife denied that, but I came to terms with it…" He looked at her the pain in his eyes and the conviction.

"…but you need to know and trust me when I say that I love Mycroft, more than I ever thought possible and I will never regret my choice in choosing him. He is more than what I could imagine or wished for and that above all else should be enough for you."

Since the whole ride the coldness and fury left Anthea and she relaxed, her eyes betrayed her emotion as she swallowed the lump.

"I had to be sure, Mr Holmes…." Greg leaned over and stopped her. A soft smile around his lips.

"I know and I'm glad he has you to look out for him. Anyway, Sally is probably explaining to her exactly who you are and who you work for and what it all means." Anthea smiled at that, she did attacked like a bulldog.

"Well, anyway, she will find herself mysteriously transferred."

Greg held up his hands in surrender.

"Don't tell me, I want to be able to deny all knowledge of this." She just nodded in return, right when the car stopped. Greg opened the door to see Mycroft waiting for him. Greg eyed Anthea and got out. He was quite astonished, he wasn't sure who exactly was more dangerous between Mycroft and Anthea.

"Gregory, shall we go in, or do you want to smoke first?" Mycroft smiled at him, his umbrella over his arm and his other hand held out to Greg. Greg took a breath and felt his nerves calm down more. He was right; he regrets nothing with this man in his life.

"Hey Love, let's go in, I'm quite hungry."


	141. Cracked

**21\. Cracked**

Greg smile didn't leave his face, no matter how much Mycroft tried to glare at him, in fact the more he glared the more he laughed.

"It isn't funny." Mycroft growled out, as he pushes the button on the elevator.

"It's a little funny." Greg retorted before he gave Mycroft that smile that would melt Mycroft's resolve. The man can be so charming when he wants to be.

The door opened and they got in, Greg following behind dutifully.

"Why are you insisting on coming with?" Mycroft asked as the door closed.

"Because I want to see your face when you explain to your technicians why you're mobile screen is cracked." Mycroft turned around, glaring at Greg.

"You expect me to tell them the truth?"

"You wouldn't, and I am very interested to know, what story you would spin them." Greg answered neutrally; he was still smiling as if he was watching a live comedy show. Mycroft straightened up.

"It's not as if I can tell them you broke my screen."

"You can tell them that, I don't mind….it's the activity that would cause some concern." Greg replied, his hands in his pockets his whole body relaxed. It was driving Mycroft insane.

"How do you expect me to tell my technicians you broke…"

"Technically you broke it…" Greg interrupted. Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"That 'we' broke my state of the art phone when you decided to have a quickie in my office."

Greg shrugged.

"In my defence…"

"You don't get a defence."

"In my defence, it was your fault for looking so damn hot and sexy in my favourite suit, sitting at your desk with your feet on the desk and going 'oh Gregory, what can I do for you today?'"

"So now it's my fault? For looking hot and sexy?"

"Absolutely, just like now in this elevator, all business like and professional with your back straightener than a ruler when I know how flexible you really are." The blush on Mycroft's face was instantaneous. The tension in his shoulders dropped.

"Well…" he tried, unsure how to proceed. Greg stepped closer and took Mycroft's hand he lifted to his face and kissed the palm.

"You know what excuse would always work?"

"I can't use that."

"Yes you can, besides, he wouldn't even think twice."

Mycroft sighed as the door opened and Greg let go of his hand, they stepped into the hallway until they made their way to the techs office. He stepped into the room.

"Mr Holmes how can we help you?"

Mycroft looked at Greg before turning back to the man. Handling him his phone with the cracked screen. The man's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"My dear brother decided on another experiment."


	142. Tin can

**22\. Tin can**

Mycroft came in from the outside his jumper in his hand, putting it down on the kitchen table he quickly removed his gloves and made his way upstairs. He walked into their bedroom and opened the cupboard on Greg's side. Finding what he was looking for he went back to the kitchen. Sitting at the table he pulled his jumper closer and the loose button hanging on by a single thread. Opening the lid he searched for a needle and the thread.

If his parents can see him now, putting a button on all by himself, he smiled as he looked at the tin. It was Greg's and it was such a surprise when he saw Greg with it.

It was their sixth date and the first one at Greg's flat; he volunteered to cook for them and Mycroft couldn't resist the temptation to be with Greg in his own home. It all went well until the button on his jacket fell off. To his astonishment Greg pulled out a tin can from his cupboard.

"What are you doing?" Mycroft asked as Greg held out his hand for the jacket.

"I'm about to fix your jacket." Greg replied as if it the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're what?" Greg saw the incredulous look and chuckled.

"I'm a single man, with shirts and buttons and so forth, I actually do know how to put a button on you know?"

"But…How…I…" Mycroft tried to put into words what he was feeling, Greg knows how to sew? He is a good detective; he can cook and no apparently sow buttons. Something must have shown on his face, because Greg laughed harder. Greg sat down at the kitchen table his glasses perched on his face, Mycroft's jacket in one hand and the needle in the other.

"Make sure the lasagne don't burn while you're staring at me, this will only take about five minutes." Mycroft watch the whole thing as it was the most beautiful thing in the world. They chatted while Greg was sowing the button on, he kept an eye on the food and afterwards they had the most amazing dinner.


	143. Neon

** 23\. Neon **

 

When Mycroft came home he was a running late, the meeting taking more of his time than usual.  The house was lit up with lights and soft music playing in the living room.  He made his way to the living room and stopped in the doorway.  The sight, still causing his heart to ache and swell all at once. It was the most beautiful in the entire world.  His husband Gregory was sitting on a big fluffy carpet, the fire in the background simmering and causing the room to dance in light.  With him between his legs were two bundle of joys. His son and daughter. 

No.

Their son and daughter. 

Next month they will be celebrating their first birthday.  A whole year, they have been dads for nearly a year.  It was up and down but Mycroft wouldn’t change a thing about it.  A loud laughter brought him back to the moment, his son was laughing at Greg who was dangling a neon slinky from the air.  His daughter reached her hand to grab onto it but fell over onto Greg’s thigh.

“Ooh careful princess.”  Greg said as he pulled her up with his free hand.  She looked up then saw him in the doorway, her eyes lit up.

“Papa.”  Greg turned to the doorway.

“Hey Love.”  Mycroft smiled broadly as he made his way over to them sitting down on the carpet, he leaned over and kissed Greg.

“I missed you today.” 

Two pair of small hands grabbed onto his leg, seeking his attention. He opened his arms picking up his son with his girl climbing over his leg.

“Hey you and how was your day?”

“They discovered how to play with a slinky, Mark over here got a new love for mash and Amberley hates smashed peas, since she threw her whole dinner plate over her brother.”  Greg answered as he played with the slinky in his hand.

“Oh my.  You don’t like peas Amberley?”  Mycroft asked his daughter who just pulled a face and climbed on top of him and his son grabbed his tie.

“Hey little one like Papa’s tie?”  In reply he just raised the tie to his mouth to suck on it; Mycroft quickly pulled it back before it could get dirty. 

“And the slinky?”  He asked his husband watching as Greg played with it.

“Saw it at this novelty shop today, and bought them each one, they quite like playing with it.”

“So does their father.”

Greg shrugged after all his was husband was right.


	144. Novice

** 24\. Novice **

Mycroft was lulled from his slumber by the softest tickling movements of a finger across his shoulders.  It was soft barely touching his skin, yet enough to wake him.  He opened his eyes to see it was still early.

“My dearest, what are you doing?”  He asked his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Counting your freckles.”  Greg softly replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely…”  Greg leaned over so his breath tickled the skin and hair around his ears.

“…not only am I counting it, I’m also tracing it, like a treasure map leading me to priceless treasure.”

Mycroft chuckled softly and shifted so he was more comfortable.

“Wake me when you find it.”  He replied closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

“Oh I will.”  Greg voice sounded over him as he drifted back to sleep.

 

Mycroft wasn’t normally the type of man who enjoys long hours sleeping in on a morning, not even on weekends, but this Sunday was different.  He has been abroad for three weeks using all his power and mental ability to rescue a British doctor kidnapped in some desert country.  He hardly slept at all, as every minute was important, he ate even less than what he slept.  Food was used in the literal sense of fuel to keep going to fight the nausea and hunger pains and low blood sugar from interrupting his work.

But, he was home now, lying in bed with his only love in the early morning light, the only place in the entire world where he needed to be. 

He was woken up when the said finger on his shoulders earlier was now travelling to his lower back.  Smiling he decided to change the game and before Greg could utter a sound he was lying on his stomach with Mycroft’s hand on his back.

“What are you doing?”  Greg finally asked as he was aware of what happened, a smile on his face.

“I believe the term is counting freckles as you so elegantly put it.”  Mycroft replied as his fingers caressed the skin.

“Love, I don’t have any freckles, unless you want to count my scars?” Mycroft looked down at his back, he knew Greg had no freckles, but he did see a lot of small and big scares, old and recently, faded into soft white lines some still light pink.  He looked at the white and old ones. Placing a kiss on his shoulder blade he asked.

“Which one was the first?”

“That small one under my right shoulder, so stupid.”  Greg muttered and Mycroft traced his finger around it.

“When did you get it?”

“When I just started in the force, was still a novice in the whole blue blood thing, a rookie and it was my first robbery.  I ran after the thief down several streets and I tackled him.  As I arrested him, he pushed me back into the wall and there was this big rusty nail in the wall, ripping my shirt and skin.  Got my first tetanus shot too.”  Greg was telling him this tale all smiling fondly at the memory and Mycroft rolled his eyes.  Only Greg would get nostalgic about something like that.

“You do realised it could’ve been worse?”

“Huh?”  Greg asked looking confused.

“It could’ve been pushed into your neck, your spine, even your lungs and the tetanus shot? What if it didn’t help and you got sick, sepsis, bacteria….”

“Well if it did I wouldn’t be here…so it’s okay isn’t it?”  Greg shrugged or tried to, it was quite hard when you’re on your stomach and held by your partner.  Mycroft closed his eyes; it was supposed to be a light and comfortable morning that is somehow turning to serious for his liking.

He pulled Greg so he was lying on his back and leaned over him to kiss him. Greg responded by pulling him closer, his arm encircling him.

Mycroft kissed all the way up his jaw and softly bit on his earlobe.

“I would’ve found you anyway.”

“I know you would’ve.”  Greg replied his he gazed into Mycroft’s eyes. 

“So, talking about seeking treasure….”  Mycroft mumbled and kissed Greg again. 

 


	145. Thunder

** 25\. Thunder **

 

The car fitted in nicely in the street, obscure and without the attention other cars seemed to have.  On the other side of the street was a van, a big sign on the side with “Brookes’ painting” on the side.

There were two men sitting at the small round table, a small café on the corner.  Their table was almost hidden away closer to the alley than the street, both dressed in different clothes than normal it was meant for them to fit it, neutral colours that blended in with the surroundings.  Sherlock leaned over to the table.

“I’m still wondering why I’m here Lestrade.” Greg lowered the menu he was holding.

“Because you like action, and that is what I’m giving you, John said you were bored, so I thought I might take you on a stakeout.  As you know the house on the corner over there is the hideout of several criminals and we are about to bust it. You know, it is okay to thank me at least once.”

Sherlock just mumbled something under his breath and Greg sighed.

“Anyway, it will be over quickly then you would be rid of us and can go back to boredom at home.”  Sherlock just ignored him and turned away.  Greg looked up and noticed that the clouds were thickening; it was going to rain soon.  In the distance the first thunder strike cracked through the air.

“It’s going to rain soon.”  Sherlock mumbled unimpressed.  Greg bit his tongue to make a snarky remark.  Wow, it is going to rain, jeez wonder what gave that away…Instead he lit up a cigarette and leaned back in the chair. Looking at the house, his watch and the sky he started singing softly.

“Yeah, thunder only happens when it’s raining,

Players only love when they’re playing… yeah….”

“Don’t you dare.”  Sherlock demanded as he turned to Greg.

“Don’t dare what?  Singing?”  Greg asked nonplussed as he looked at Sherlock.

“Let me tell you I will sing if I want to, this is a stakeout, next to a dirty alley and we’re waiting to do a bust, also you are not the best company today, even after I thought that this would be something nice and action packed after all you complained about boredom and was driving John up the wall.  Just so you know, next time I will leave you in the van with Donovan and bring John with me.”

“No you won’t.”  Sherlock responded and folded his arms.

“Why not, he will be better company than you, not as rude and ungrateful.”

Sherlock turned to Greg and smiled, not in a good way before he spoke loudly so that everyone around them would be able to hear.

“Why don’t you call my brother next time so you could shag him in the alley, I bet you haven’t yet in a place like this.”

Greg stared at him in shock as several turned their heads into their direction, the cigarette falling from his hands, the small glowing end quenched by the rain drops falling from the sky; it was going to turn into a downpour any moment. 

The moment was broken by the static of the radio in their ear-buds.  It was Sally.

“Sir, we have movement in the house, we can proceed on your order.”  Greg stood up and ignoring Sherlock he made his way to the house.

“Move in Donovan, I’ll go in first, we go fast and quick, cover all exits and windows.”

Greg was so angry that he stormed the house, the back-up and teams behind him, somewhere was Sherlock but he didn’t stop to see where,  it happened fast, the criminals put up a fight, there was a shootout and several tried to run. In the end all of them was caught and cuffed, with their rights being read to them.  Sherlock joined John at the van; he could see that John was furious.

“You should apologise, that was low and cruel even for you.  His entire team and department heard everything! It is on record!”  Sherlock looked down, he not only humiliated Greg in front of his entire team and department, and he also humiliated his brother that was more than ‘not good’

“Where’s Lestrade?”  He asked softly and looked around.  So did John, they found Greg near the ambulance, standing at the open door as a paramedic bandaged his arm.  His shoulder was grazed by a bullet.   He smiled at the paramedic briefly before he made his way over to Donovan.  They watched as she looked at his arm, concern all over her face and he calming her down before instructing her to take over.  He didn’t even glance at them as he made his way over to one of the squad cars.  As he opened the door he looked up, right at them.  They shared a look and Greg’s shoulders sagged, shaking his head he got in and drove away. 

When he finally arrived home he was tired and his arm was hurting, he made his way up to the bathroom, the house was dark and empty, Mycroft wasn’t home yet.  He could feel his muscles relaxing under the hot water and his mood improving – albeit just a little.

Afterwards he made his way downstairs, the lights were on and Mycroft was pouring them each a glass.

“Hey Love.”

“Bad day?”  Mycroft asked gently as he handed him the glass.  Greg took it and took a big sip.

“You already know, you know everything.” Greg mumbled as he allowed Mycroft to pull him into a hug.

“I don’t know why he insists on being so mean to you.”

“It’s okay, I still have you.”  Greg replied and stepped out of his embrace, picking up his glass he opened the curtains and windows to let the fresh air in after the storm, he loved the smell of the air after rain.  Drinking the rest of the liquid in his glass he turned to Mycroft.

“Anyway do you have other unknown siblings?  Because seriously, I don’t think I could stand another one. Not at this moment anyhow…”  He whispered softly, the pain still in his eyes.

 

 


	146. Black ink

** 26\. Black ink **

 

It happened so fast, one moment Greg and Sherlock was in the house talking to the suspect, John was standing in the corner watching as he usually did.  Greg moved forward to cuff him and read him his rights when the man pulled out a syringe and emptied it in Greg’s arm.  He pulled back and the man pushed him aside to run out.  Sherlock stopped him immediately and John managed to knock him out and on the floor before turning back to Greg who stood as if frozen.

“Greg?”  John asked but there was no reply.  Sherlock walked closer to him his hand reaching out to him.  Something was off.  Sherlock stopped in front of him pulling his sleeve up to see the mark.  The needle was still stuck in the material, a small blood stain from where it was ripped out and scratched the skin.  He looked at Greg.

“John, call an ambulance.”  He ordered.  Greg’s eyes was nearly black from his pupils, sweat was rolling of his face and before Sherlock could say anything Greg collapsed against him, his body overcoming with spasm and seizures.

“John!”  Sherlock yelled as loud as he could, and John rushed to him, his phone still against his ear.  Finishing the call he took over. 

“Don’t hold him too tightly, you’ll do more damage, make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue.”   John ordered as he handled Greg.  Sherlock was in shock as he watched Greg.

“What’s happening to him?” 

“He’s ODing.”  John replied as he ordered Sherlock to help him to stabilized Greg and make sure he doesn’t die. 

The ambulance arrived just as Greg’s heart stopped.  John did CPR with Sherlock giving mouth to mouth.  The paramedics took over and they watched as they loaded him into the ambulance, still struggling to stabilize him.

“What was he injected with?”  The one asked.

“Black ink.  A whole syringe.”  Sherlock replied.  The paramedics looked at each other with concern and fear.  Black ink was new drug on the market, more lethal than any of the others.  It was a mixture between heroin, cocaine and php – known as angel dust, and a whole lot more.  It was a black powder which gave it its name. 

 

Sherlock and John followed behind the ambulance with Sherlock informing Mycroft of what happened. 

They waited at the hospital all quiet.  Sherlock didn’t say anything, for the first time he experiences exactly what Greg and Mycroft experienced with his overdoses.  It was terrifying.  Seeing the person thrashing like that, foam at the mouth, muscles contracting, the heart stopping…he looked at his brother, the deep worry etched on his face.  Is that how he looked when Sherlock was in there, and he had to wait to know if he was okay? How does one deal with it.

“You just deal Sherlock, you deal and you hope.”  Mycroft said before he slowly turned his face his brother.  He knew what Sherlock was thinking, what went through his mind.  He gave a smile, yet it was more a grimace.

“Sit down brother mine.”  Sherlock sat down on the chair, looking down as they waited for news about Greg


	147. The Cork

** 27\. The cork **

Three years, it took Mycroft and Greg three years to stop dancing around each other and decided to go on a date…how that exactly came about, is a story all on its own.

The first date was brilliant, there were no awkward moments of trying to get on the same page as with the other, it flowed, it flowed instantly and perfectly. They had so much in common that they didn’t run out of topics to discuss, they learned a lot about one another and it was both memorable.

 

The second date.

The second date eclipsed the first date; at least that is how they feel about it. Both were of the opinion that it wasn’t a second date at all, but a dinner between people who has been together for years.

The third date.

Well, the third date haven’t happened, and not from a lack of trying.

They scheduled the third date to see a movie they both wanted to see and would have dinner afterwards. However a few hours before the said date Mycroft got a text.

_“Hey, can we reschedule the date? Got a triple murder and DI Grayson is off with the flu. GL”_

So they rescheduled, a few days later Mycroft and Greg decided to go to the Tate Museum, there is an opening of a new exhibition and it sounded great. Both were excited, yet the universe conspired against them and Greg got a call from Anthea informing him that Mycroft was on a helicopter on his way to Balmoral Castle for a very important meeting and has no idea how long it was going to take.

So they rescheduled, again.

Things seemed to be going good for the third date; Greg was actually in the car on his way to their third date. Greg tried to be positive, so far no interruptions, no murder, nothing and he hoped it would stay that way, he hoped this would be a good evening and that after all this time and delays, Mycroft hasn’t lost interest in him, or decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

On the other side Mycroft had the exact same thoughts. He hoped that Greg would understand that his work wasn’t always predictable and that it would be difficult to stick to a schedule. Although Greg is used to unpredictability in his work, the man does like it in his personal life – to an extent. He just hoped that this isn’t enough to dissuade him from entering a relationship with Mycroft. He can’t lose him, now that he found him.

They met outside the restaurant, deciding on a small and intimate little place just dinner and just them. ‘The Cork’ fit that requirement perfectly. A small restaurant, yet high in quality with impeccable service and an impressive selection of wines, all of them from Italian, the red, the white the ‘limited editions’ everything under one roof.   Not to mention how the wine complement each and every dish, a cuisine that brings out the heart of Italy.

They smiled shyly before they entered. Greg ran his hand through his hair.

“Can’t believe we actually made it.”

“I agree, it has been a challenge.” Mycroft replied and opened the door for Greg; they went inside and waited to be led to their table. The waiting area was filled with the selection of wines. The room was decorated with lanterns and candles giving it a beautiful relaxed atmosphere, no electrical lighting. The waiter came to fetch them and they followed him to his table, there was a small hallway and you had to go down a few steps to the seating area. Greg waited till they were about halfway when he reached for Mycroft’s hand who was leading, Mycroft turned around a small question in his eyes but Greg reached over to him.

“Now or never.” Greg kissed him softly on the lips and it took Mycroft two seconds to respond and deepening the kiss. Aware of still being in public’s eye the stopped before it could get too heated. They turned to the waited who was waited a few steps away, he just said.

“Sirs, the table is ready.” As if nothing happened in the world.

They had a wonderful dinner of meat cooked in red wine a bottle of rich Barbaresco to compliment the dinner perfectly. The sommelier left the cork near the bottle and Greg picked it up, smelling it as if it were perfume.

“I’m going to keep this cork as a reminder Mycroft.”

Mycroft smiled and tilted his head slightly.

“A reminder?”

Greg nodded

“To remind me that even though it was a bit challenging to get to the third date, it was worth it, and that it always would be.”

 

 


	148. No time

28\. No time

As far as sexual adventures went, Mycroft never actually had sex in his office.  He thought about it, yes, so did Greg.  Mycroft knew that Greg did too, every time he came in the office he would have a fleeting moment of having Mycroft against the desk, it was all over his face. 

The more he thought about it, the more Mycroft thought about, until today…

The irony of it all was that Greg didn’t even do anything, nor had he that thought today, he came in the office waved at Mycroft and sat down in his favourite chair, like he always did.  The chair closest to the window, overlooking the city with a good view of the whole office and Mycroft’s desk.  Mycroft was convinced that Greg’s scent has seeped into that leather and he hated it, when someone else would sit on that specific chair.  

Greg had the afternoon off, and promised Mycroft he would stop by, before going home to get the small grocery list of things Mycroft wanted for dinner that night.  So he came in, and sat down waiting for Mycroft to finish his phone conversation.  It wasn’t security based so he could be there.  

It was the way he sat, Mycroft was convinced of it, all relaxed with a book on his lap, his fingers softly caressing over the pages, his eyes down and focused on the words, the sunlight catching his face and lightening up his lashes…he wants Greg and he wants him right now. 

Finishing the call he put the phone down and leaned his head on his hands, supported by his elbows. 

“Gregory?....” He drawled out in his most seductive voice.  Greg froze instantly then slowly looked up. 

“Would you allow me to have you right here right now?”  Greg swallowed.

“In here?”  He asked his breaths speeding up and his tongue licking his lips.

“Yes.  On this desk, you can have me too, if you’d like, I think I would prefer it…” 

“There’s no time, you said that you have an important meeting at two, it’s twenty to.”

“Then I suggest we make it quick, don’t you?”

Greg swallowed, the book forgotten he made to get up but was halted when he turned to the door.  When Mycroft cleared his throat and tilted his head, Greg jumped up and rushed to Mycroft slamming their lips together.  They didn’t bother with undressing, only the necessary parts. 

“Fifteen minutes?”  Mycroft mumbled through the kisses. 

“We can do it.”  Greg replied.

They did. 


	149. Nom du plume

29\. Nom du plume

 

Greg watched as Mycroft mumbled something under his breath and then with a frown started typing furiously.  

Oops…

Somewhere in the government, someone is making his partner very angry. 

Also, could be Sherlock did something he wasn’t supposed to and now Mycroft has to fix it. Biting his lip he looked at Mycroft. Before he could asked Mycroft uttered his dismay louder.

“There is a reason it is called ‘Noir’ the name itself means ‘black film’ or ‘film of the night’ there isn’t rainbows and puppies…” Greg frowned.

Film noir? That doesn’t sound like a government issue or something Sherlock would do. Well, one way to find out. 

“Love…” He tried. 

“Hmm” 

“Everything all right?” 

“eeewsggg.” He mumbled waving his hand then typing again. Very curious Greg walked closer and he could hear phrased like ‘cigarettes a must’ and ‘always take place during the night, shadows or alleys….’ Greg stopped till he stood next to Mycroft and looked at the screen. Mycroft was writing a reply on some blog or something, the theme or article was about how the new film noir, have a puppy and there is a poster of a rainbow somewhere, and this apparently disagreed with Mycroft. He looked closer and it was strange that Mycroft hasn’t noticed Greg standing so close or reading it, he was too busy typing. He stared at the name in Mycroft’s reply column. Aprivateeyeofsilver.

Well that was interesting.

“Love, are you writing under a Nom du Plume on a film noir site? Are you a film noir enthusiast?” Mycroft froze his eyes wide, his fingers resting above the keyboard and as if in slow motion he turned towards Greg.  

“Uuuh….well….you see…its….um….” Greg leaned over and kissed him. 

“It is so you. Off all the genres, that is the one I would imagine you with.” Mycroft blinked. 

“You would?” 

“Yes, the mystery, the drama, the pessimism, fatalism, the murder, the idea of things happening in the dark, behind the scenes, the detecting, the puzzles….the time…it is a classic and you my Love, are timeless in elegance.” Mycroft blushed slightly and smiled at Greg.

“It is my favourite genre.” 

“So tell me, who upset you so much?” 

Mycroft narrowed his eyes to make sure Greg was sincere before he showed him the new movie poster and some scenes on why it is considered a new way of film noir. Greg loved the way Mycroft would go into detail, the passion in his voice as he talked about the stereotypes, the femme fatales, and the men in fedoras and suits the cigarettes smoke that would twirl as if it had a role on its own in front of the camera. Greg loved it. 

 

It was a week later when Mycroft came home to a dark house; there was a neon light sign at the hallway, an arrow pointing upstairs. He frowned and before he could turn the light on, soft blues played. He made his way upstairs and noticed that small lamps were put on the floor to cast long shadows on the floor, his legs seemed never-ending as he walked. He stopped on top. There underneath the window was a silhouette. A man.

“Gregory?” His hand lit up a lamp, he was wearing a suit with a long trench coat, he turned his face and Mycroft could see he was wearing a fedora hat, he was smoking a cigarette, long twirls of smoke was reaching to the sky.

“Good evening, Mr Holmes. I’m a Private Investigator; send to do find some information…” Greg turned to look at Mycroft, his eyes smouldering and the cigarette hanging out of his lips. His voice was gravely and Mycroft was turned on, a full hundred percent, he stared.

“Is that so?” He whispered as he walked to Greg. His feet would walk to Greg wherever the man was.

“Yeah….the word on the street is you’re the man to talk to…the man…who knows…everything….” Greg walked towards Mycroft and stopped in front of him, his eyes glancing underneath the fedora, his lashes miles long. Mycroft licked his lips.

“If that is the case…you should know…I don’t share my ‘information’ with just anyone.”

“Oh, I think we can reach some sort of compromise…”

“Shall we discuss it in a more private manner?” Mycroft tried, his voice in short gasps as he stared at Greg, who was giving him the most seductive smile ever.

“Lead the way."

 

 

 

 


	150. Sunglasses

**30 Sunglasses**

Half an hour to go before the plane landed…two occupants in first class were a little more excited than the rest; they were in fact very excited as this was their first official trip together in a far country. A holiday, not a getaway, or weekend breakaway…a holiday. Greg remembered the day as it was yesterday when Mycroft came home from work two months ago and asked that Greg must put in a request for leave in at work. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect a holiday in Japan.

Japan with its cherry tree flowers, the rising sun, the…

"You're still smiling." Greg turned to Mycroft who squeezed his hand slightly. They may be first class but not enough discretion to Mycroft.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because we spent eleven hours on a plane and you are still smiling just like the moment we stepped on the plane and that amazes me. You amaze me."

Greg squeezed back.

"Yeah I was thinking that there are so many things of us to see and do…"

"This is precisely why I have arranged for us private guides for all these two weeks in every city we will be in, Tokyo, Kyoto, and Hiroshima…Osaka…"

"Did you schedule everything?" Greg asked as he watched Mycroft glancing through the pages of his book.

"Yes, there is the Imperial Palace, the Himeji castle…."

"Mount Fuji?" Greg asked.

Mycroft froze momentarily.

"No..."

"No?" Greg tried to keep the smile off his face. "No Mount Fuji, oh My, how can you forget it…" Greg asked and Mycroft looked at him, relaxing immediately.

"You're making fun of me aren't you?" Greg burst out laughing, and held his thumb and forefinger together.

"Little bit..." He played and Mycroft just shook his head. That man...

The afternoon sun shined brightly as the plane landed and they got off, Greg reached for his sunglasses completely relaxed. Mycroft was used to seeing him with his sunglasses but this time it left him mesmerized. He was aware just how thankful he is that Greg is with him, as he stands there in his jeans and shirt, a bit crumpled he still cut a fine figure and he would smile at Mycroft and he was his. He was by Mycroft's side and he would never take it for granted.

The car drove them to a small resort on the country side, still close enough to the big city. Greg thought they would stay in a hotel in the city but this was a pleasant surprise. He was even more surprised when he saw the room.

"Oh my god! There is a big bathtub outside My….its spectacular. "

Mycroft laughed and replied.

"Yes, this is one of the best 'ryokan' in all of Japan; it has a private bathtub outside with thermal heating so each room has its own hot…" Greg interrupted him with a passionate kiss.

"You beautiful amazing man…and I would very much like to experience that hot water in that private bath with you…right now…" As he spoke he started to unbutton his shirt and Mycroft just followed with his own shirt.

They morning sun was beautiful as it woke the two men up, while Greg was in the shower Mycroft peeked through the curtains, a huge mischievous smile on his lips…perfect…

He waited till Greg was finished, both ready for the day, they were going to have breakfast downstairs and then start the day…first….

"Gregory my dear could you please fetch my sunglasses I think I left them outside after last night?"

"Sure." Greg opened the curtains fully and the glass door to the terrace when he froze. His hands resting on the door, his eyes staring in front of him. There in the distance, in the glimmering morning light was Mount Fuji, welcoming them.

"My…" His voice was filled with wonder and Mycroft felt his heart compress.

"Yes, my dear." He asked as he went to stand behind Greg. Greg didn't move, he just stared.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg's chest, his chin resting on his shoulder.

"Yes, like I love you and feel you and your love every time we touch."


	151. The last one

** 31\. The last one **

 

 

The plane touched down on Heathrow just before 9 pm, when Mycroft had collected his bags and made his way to the waiting car it was already after nine.  Anthea would come back tomorrow to finish the last few touches on the meetings and reports; he couldn’t wait to get home to his family.  It has been three weeks, three weeks without his husband in his arms, three weeks without the shrill laughter of his children reverberating through the rooms. 

He waited till he was safely in the car, on his way home before he pulled out his phone and dialled his husband, the phone just rang. Mycroft frowned it was strange that he wasn’t answering, maybe he was on duty, or at a scene or maybe in the shower...maybe he was the kids, although a bit late Greg would sometimes be a bit more lenient with them.  A small smile appeared on his lips, It’s been eighteen months, the kids could be a handful at times, but they were lucky that they sleep the whole night through, not so much in the beginning, that was some adjustment, working all day and sleepless night…oh the teething itself was a story in itself, but that was all done and there was light at the tunnel, easy going now as they would say.

 

The car dropped him off and he was so happy he hardly greeted the driver before he made his way to the front door, that moment was left as soon as he unlocked the door, something was off…His heart plummeted, a thousand worst case scenarios run through his mind.  He slowly made his way into the living room and frowned, John was on the sofa stretch out and fast asleep, his nephew on his chest both fast asleep.  He didn’t want to wake him and turned around when a soft lullaby reach his ears, he went into the kitchen to see Sherlock with his niece, trying to get her to sleep.

“Sherlock?  What is going on?  Where is Gregory?” He asked urgent but still keeping his voice low. Sherlock looked at him.

“Sleeping, wait here, I’m just going to put her in her bed….wait here…” Mycroft nodded as Sherlock walked out; in the door he turned back.

“Make tea.”

 

When Sherlock came back there were two steaming cups of tea on the table, Sherlock sat down.

“Did you see their faces?  They have chickenpox both of them.”  Mycroft stared. Chickenpox….

“What?  Where….how…”

“Rosie, remember she had it last month, by the time we realised what it was, she had already transmitted it to the twins.”  Sherlock answered as he drank the tea, it was good.

Mycroft looked down, that was last month, nearly two months ago…

“Did they have it this entire time?” He felt so guilty, he left for three weeks and his kids were sick and Greg all alone.

“No, only the last week or so, they were resilient but John thinks their immune system caved after all.” Mycroft nodded and his finger playing with the handle.  Sherlock watched him closely before he cleared his throat.

“It has been quite a challenge you know, when Greg realised they had it, he called us, he struggled to handle them both, they had fevers that didn’t want to go down, itching vesicles, they refused to eat or sleep, they develop rashes from the diapers and skin…he tried but we helped where we could, Rosie was a handful between me and John, imagine two alone…the nannies helped too, but they only wanted their Daddy, they would stop crying when he was with them.” Mycroft put the cup down, the guilt stronger than before, how dare he leave them like that?  And without a way to reach him.

“Mycroft, maybe I’m not the right person to tell you this, but you should have been here, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, but you are a father now, and they need you more than England, it was the one of the most hardest lessons I learned with John and Rosie, you and me, this is strange for us, but we need to man up as John would say.  The nannies helped, and John, and me, but you know how he gets, doesn’t want the nannies when he is home and can do it himself, ‘it’s my kids’ he would say. You married such a stubborn man.”  Mycroft smiled slightly; yes Gregory has a very strong stubborn streak in him.

“I know…I’m sorry about this Sherlock.”

“It’s not me you have to apologise too, John once mentioned that we should try to contact you and he refuses, said you were busy with very important meetings and all that.” Mycroft shoulders sagged and he leaned forward on his arms, he didn’t know and he didn’t even try to find out.  Sherlock got up and placed both their cups in the sink.

“John and I will stay the night, with the kids downstairs with us, go to your husband, get some sleep trust me; you are going to need it.” Sherlock placed his hand on Mycroft’s shoulder and left he turned around.

“Let go of the guilt, you can’t afford it with two sick toddlers.  And we both know Greg won’t let you hang on to it.”

Mycroft waited till he was gone before he sat up, and wiped his face.  Gregory, it was only the thought that Gregory was waiting for him upstairs that motivated him to get up and made his way upstairs.

 

 

The bed was warm and comfortable when he sagged into it.  Greg’s shifted and his hands reached around Mycroft.

“You’re home…I missed you.” He mumbled between sleep.

Mycroft turned around to face Greg, the exhaustion and mental drain was clear to see in his eyes and face.  His heart contracted with guilt.

“I’m so sorry.” He replied, is voice hardly loud as a whisper.

Greg shifted so he could look at Mycroft better.

“For what?”

“Not being here.” Greg sighed; he really didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“I know, but Love, it isn’t the first time.” He mumbled his voice slowly cracking.

“I promise you it would be the last time.”  Mycroft eyes filled with tears, this wasn’t really the homecoming he envisioned.

Greg closed his eyes to hide his emotions when he opened he looked at Mycroft and it was breaking his heart.

“No it won’t, be both know it.  So let’s talk about this tomorrow, I’m barely hanging by a thread here…let’s get some sleep and talk tomorrow, it is going to be another long day.”

Mycroft tried to talk but Greg interrupted him.

“Love I’m not angry, come here…” He pulled Mycroft close to him, holding him close.

“Sleep, just sleep.”

 


	152. Chewing gum

**1 Chewing gum**

Greg felt the frustration boiling through his veins, he had a rough couple days and this man isn't making it easier for him. The man was staring at Greg his mouth moving as he chewed on chewing gum, he even tried to pop a few bubbles and now was just sitting staring at Greg and Greg stared back. This has been going on for nearly four hours, every attempt Greg made to talk to him, was futile.

This man was the only witness he had in a murder and he could provide relevant information, if he just talked.

Hell, he needed a coffee, or a break or both of them. The silence was broken by the sound of a vibration. Greg looked at his phone.

" **You need a break, your office.**

**Now.**

**Please. MH"**

Greg smiled, at least he said please. Sighing he stood up and left the man, with only the policeman on duty outside his door.

Once he reached his office he was surprised to find that it was a bit of a full house. Sherlock was standing in the corner drinking coffee, John was relaxed in one his chairs, eating a cupcake and Mycroft were sitting in his chair, he smiled when Greg entered.

"Sit down my dear, have a coffee and cupcake, Iced Vanilla, your favourite." Greg eyed him and to the table where an innocent coffee and cupcake was waiting for him, next to John. He ran his hand through his hair before he relented and sat down in the chair, not even kicking up a fuss that Mycroft was in his seat…besides it looked good with him...

"Did I miss a family reunion?" He asked as he bit down in the cupcake and groaned, it was delicious. Sherlock stepped closer.

"Apparently, my dearest Big Brother has something to share." Sherlock answered with sarcasm, they all ignored him and Greg turned to Mycroft. Mycroft sat up straighter and Greg noticed that he was the only one not eating a cupcake or drinking a coffee…as always.

"Yes, Sherlock told me he found the witness, but the witness is proving himself problematic and doesn't want to talk." Greg nodded.

"Yeah, that sums it up. He was Lorna Walker's stalker, he followed her every day and stared at her windows all night, a classical definition of Peeping Tom, but because it was public domain and he was just standing, he wasn't actually doing anything against the law, the thing he saw her murderer, and I for one can't figure out why he is not talking."

"Because he plans to deal with it himself." Mycroft replied.

"Huh?" John asked and Greg sighed.

"Oh, he is a stalker, the murderer interfered with is supposed to be his, his territory, his prize. I can't let him do that Mycroft."

"Of course not." Mycroft answered and slid a file towards him.

"I'm going to borrow you this file on a temporary basis, which also does not exist, in this report you will find everything about your witness, it is a very interesting read, and he was in the Army, maybe you can persuade him to talk?" Greg narrowed his eyes his hands on the folder.

"This file doesn't exist does it?" Mycroft shook his head.

"And I take it you want it back, very soon." Mycroft nodded.

"Okay…" Greg replied and stood up, his cupcake finished and he quickly drank the rest of his coffee. Mycroft stood up as well and made his way to the door.

"Anyway, it has been a long day and I'm going home, I think I can take the rest of the afternoon off…either way, goodbye Doctor Watson, Sherlock….oh and Detective Inspector, I think an hour should suffice before I expect you and whatever you may carry back home…Gentleman." With that he turned around and walked away, leaving the three of them standing there. Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh at his brother's antics. John turned to Greg.

"You better hurry mate…he doesn't look like he was in a mood to wait." Greg looked at his watch; maybe he can make it home earlier….

When Greg entered the interrogation room he was feeling much better and with a new sense of purpose. He even called Sally because after he was done, he was out of there.

"Ok…let's try again shall we Robert Wilson?"

"Not my name." The man replied and pops another bubble.

Greg just smiled

"I agree, not now anyhow… but ten years ago...let me tell you a story…ten years ago, there was this soldier who went AWOL in the middle of mission, leaving his mates to fend for themselves. He left and they knew he abandoned them and swore revenge…I have their names here, and it would only take one phone call, to let them know that Robert Wilson is now Richard Cooper…how about you tell me what I want to know and I won't tell your buddies what I know?"

"You're bluffing and I have no idea what you're talking about." Richard replied. Greg eyed his watch.

"I will give you five seconds, here ill even hold my hand up for you to see the watch, if you don't talk, I'm making a call."

"Listen…"

"Did you see the murderer and can you describe him?"

"I have nothing to say…"

"Five….four….three…" As he counted he lifted his mobile and unlocked the screen typing in a number.

The man leaned forward, the gum forgotten in his mouth.

"Two…one…oh look at that, just let me press dial…" Greg replied as his finger moved to the dial icon.

"Wait…" Greg's finger hovered above the icon, his eyes on Richard.

"I saw him…I can describe him…" Greg just smiled and put his phone down.

"Brilliant, give the information to my DS here, and I will go and get rid of your file and name, shall I?" The man gave a weak nod and Greg walked out, feeling wonderful.

Greg unlocked the door and entered their home, as he removed his coat and wallet and all the little titbits you leave at the door he could smell the wonderful aroma of dinner. Smiling he entered the kitchen, Mycroft was on the phone talking in some Asian language so Greg sat down waiting for him, the food was making him hungry. Mycroft finished the call and turned to Greg before glancing at the clock.

"Forty-five minutes…." Greg answered with a cheeky smile. Mycroft returned it.

"I take it the interview went satisfactory."

"Oh, it did. I should thank you…maybe after dinner?"

Mycroft eyed the food.

"Oh, it won't be ready for some time…maybe you should start thanking me now…"


	153. Chocolate muffin

**2\. Chocolate muffin**

Mycroft entered the gym, his eyes traveling up and down and across the floor. He took in the machinery, the men busy pressing weights and lifting bars or whatever the term is. They were here to find Greg. Sherlock and John was following him Sherlock just as mesmerized by the going on around him while John felt comfortable, he was used to gym, used to men working out, but to the Holmes brothers this was obviously a new experience, and considering that Sherlock thinks the entire London is his gym and Mycroft has a private one in his home, they would have no idea what a gym looks like.

Two girls walked passed them, in their tight outfits and yoga mats under their arm. The blonde looked at Sherlock and smiled. He blinked in return and opened his mouth to say something or deduce something when John elbowed him.

"Remember I will do the talking. This is no place to open dirty laundry in public."

"Considering the hygiene I think there is more than enough dirt to go around." Mycroft stated and the one trainer glared at him.

"Yeah, well this place is actually sparkling clean, when you consider other places." John added quickly. The man nodded.

"Damn straight."

John turned to him.

"Listen, maybe you can help us, were looking for a man."

"Look around you dude."

"He is old and grey." Sherlock stated. John gave him a pointed look.

"It's because of you that he is grey, anyway, he is about five foot eleven, tan skin, grey hair, brown eyes…"

"Oh, the guv…" The man replied.

"You know him?" Mycroft asked, the man nodded.

"Yeah, one of the nicest guys in this place, always smiling and always turning heads…he is over at the pool. He usually finishes his training program with a few laps. Over there." The man replied and pointed to the far side of the gym, where the blue water reflected on the glass.

"Thank you." John replied and walked towards the pool.

"What did he mean with turning heads? Is that some kind of talk for exercise?" Sherlock asked and both John and Mycroft turned to him.

"Really Sherlock?" John asked.

"What?"

"Turning head is to indicate that he is an attractive man who makes people look twice." Mycroft explained.

"Well he is not bad looking…" Sherlock stated but Mycroft wasn't listening, or John. The entered the pool area and watched as Greg got out of the water. Instead of using the ladder he used his arms to lift him out. He was wearing a black speedo with a matching cap and glasses. He didn't noticed them as he walked towards the bench to pick up his towel and Mycroft had an overwhelming desire to ban towels or to personally burn that one, to a matching black ash. Greg pulled of the cap and glasses in one move and shook his head dry, the spikes splattering water like raindrops on glass. Mycroft stared. Greg rubbed his chest when he turned around and saw them. He looked startled for a moment then resigned. Of course they would find him.

"Hey guys." He greeted and none answered.

"You guys okay?" John was the first to reply.

"Yeah, sorry to interrupt like this, but Mycroft and Sherlock is on a case and 'time is of the essence' he quoted. Greg chuckled.

"Of course it is. Give me five minutes to change yeah?" Mycroft and Sherlock just nodded as Greg went into the changing room, next to the pool. Mycroft was staring at the space he was standing, water has never look so good and inviting…he wonders if he should not maybe forgo his home gym and join, the pool does look clean…and cool…and and all that…

Greg appeared five minutes later his gym bag over his shoulder.

"Okay Mycroft." He said and turned to the tall man, who just stared back.

"Before we go on this case we need to stop and get some snacks or food or something, preferably sweet stuff, like a chocolate muffin or blue berry…or lemon poppy seed with strong black coffee."

"You want sweet stuff?" Mycroft asked confused.

"Yeah, I just lost something like 500 calories or something, I need it back plus I love chocolate muffins especially double chocolate ones..."

As promised Mycroft stopped for the muffin, he would've agreed to anything at that point. It was later that day he found the napkin on his desk, under a file.

" _How about dinner?_

_Oh, and were sharing desert…_

_I was thinking chocolate mousse."_


	154. Pegs

**3\. Pegs**

Mycroft woke up to the sound of shrill laughter and happy giggling. It was a Sunday morning, and he was having a lay in, he arrived late last night from an emergency meeting. He and Greg promised that they would take the kids to the park today, but then the meeting happened… He looked at the time, it was just after nine, the twins must be up, and they still haven't learned the value of sleeping late – according to Gregory. Mycroft smiled and shrugged, they are Holmes, or half Holmes…they may never learn that.

He was still tired but the soft squeal of joy and Greg's laughter made him get out of bed, whatever they are doing, it must be fun and some activity which would require that the children and most likely Gregory will end up wet, dirty, or both. Pulling on his gown, he made his way to the twins' playroom. The door was opened and he stepped in to one of the best sights in the world.

Greg was sitting on one of those small colourful children chairs, the twins next to him on either side. The table in front of them was covered in papers and paint. The children itself were dressed in their 'art clothes' all the older and stained clothes, that no longer washes out. Greg was in an old t shirt and his handy man jeans.

He was teaching them how to paint, or more precisely how to make a mess with them. He looked at the scene and smiled.

"This looks like fun." He commented and stepped into the room.

"Paint." The twins yelled together, holding out their brushes to him, paint dripping everywhere on the floor.

"Hey, did we wake you?" Greg asked

"A method I very much prefer." He replied and stepped closer, careful not to step on the paint. His hands automatically caressing each child on the top of their heads.

"Papa." They beamed up at him and continued to paint.

"What are they painting with?" He asked as he noticed that it wasn't normal brushes.

"Oh, I read that to make it more fun and let them experiment with different materials you take laundry pegs and put different materials on, like a piece of sponge, ripped material, pipe cleaner, cotton and so on. They love it."

Mycroft had to admit, it certainly made a different 'art work' than normal. He took one of the big chairs and moved closer to their little table as they painted and played. Their laughter and giggling bringing a true magnificent smile to his face, he may not have got enough sleep in, but he is not missing this for anything.


	155. Wire mesh

  **4\. Wire mesh**

They were on a small weekend getaway, to one of the small bed and breakfast in Wales; their room had a perfect overview of the coast line. They were walking down the coast line, hand in hand, the waves on one side, the grass and village on the other. They continued down until the one side of the beach was sectioned off with a small wired fence, the cobble beach and rocks on the other side.

They walked closer to find the small gate was locked.

"Oh, that's a shame, I would've liked to go there on the rocks." Greg said, his eyes longing to the cliffs and rocks.

"Yes, well, it can be very dangerous unsupervised." Mycroft replied. He turned to look at Greg who smiled as if he hand a plan.

"What...I know that look Gregory."

"Let's, climb over the wire mesh and go there." Mycroft stared and blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, come on, it would be fun." Greg insisted and to prove his point he started to look for foothold to climb over.

"Gregory I am not climbing a fence with you."

"Yes, you are. Come on." Greg found a nice foothold and before Mycroft could say anything Greg was halfway over the fence, his but in the air as he climb and then with a smooth jump, landed on the other side." Mycroft shook his head, sometimes he really wonders about Greg's age.

"Come on Love, I have a great idea once we are over there." Mycroft looked to where Greg's hand was pointing. It was over the rocks and cliffs. With a sigh he followed Greg's example with the foothold and lifted himself over. Greg was all smiles when he landed on the other side.

"Nice." He commented and grabbing Mycroft's hand, walked over to the rocks and cobbles. Greg's joy and happiness was contagious as Mycroft started to feel giddy and happy.

Greg went over to the rocks and small cobbles and started looking around.

"What are you looking for?"

"A rock, or a stone, or shell or something that looks like your eyes." Greg replied and grouched down to lift a small rock, it was shiny and round, with blue spots over it, he stood up and walked towards Mycroft, holding it close to his face.

"Nah, too light." Throwing the rock away he started again, a little to his left, near the water puddles.

Diligently he started following Greg, his eyes seeking the sand to find something that matches Greg's eyes.

"Got it." Greg yelled and rushed over to Mycroft. It was certainly something beautiful, it was the size of an egg, dark blue with shimmering streaks, it was similar to a shell, but clearly a stone. He held it to Mycroft's face.

"Perfect." Mycroft smiled and lifted up a stone and held it out to Greg's face. It was the perfect blend of brown, rustic and amber.

"Indeed."


	156. Ponytails

**5\. Ponytails**

It was all Greg's fault, Mycroft was convinced of that. There was no other way around it, no 'he didn't mean to' or 'it happened by accident.' No, it was a master plan, he was convinced of it.

His dear husband decided on showing the kids animated movies, his husband insisted they make it a 'family thing' which meant they were all had to sit together once a week and watch a film with the kids, from the Mickey mouse movies, to the Lion King, Beauty and the Beast and Anastasia. Mycroft quite enjoy that one, even thought it was way inaccurate.

Mycroft didn't had a problem with that, no his problem came in at 7 o' clock in the morning and little Amberley decided she wants two ponytails like 'Boo' in Monsters Inc. The fact that she had his dark auburn hair was a bonus. She walked in on her little feet with the hairbrush.

Greg had an early call out, and his meetings were late in the morning so he had to get them ready. She was an early riser and Mark was the sleepy head.

He looked at her as she gave him her best puppy dog look, her big blue eyes round and filled with hope.

"Boo Daddy." She said as if it explained everything. If they didn't watch the movie last night, he would've thought that she was trying to scare him, but the brush told a different story. How on earth do you make two ponytails with hair that short and curly? Well one way to find out. He picked up his phone.

"Hello?"

"Gregory, how on earth do I make two ponytails?" He was met with his husband's laughter.

"Okay, on her table you would find a bottle marked 'untangling spray' spray her hair a few times before you brush it. Then you take a comb start at the top of her head and part her hair in two equal parts. The ponytails will be high on top her hair, like Boo's okay, use matching hairbands, the pink one's so it matches. Oh and Love, send me a picture."

It was about twenty minutes when Greg's phone beeped. He was standing around a body, Sherlock and John next to him, he opened it too look at the pictures and his face broke out in the fondest of smiles. It was his husband with a little Boo with two ponytails and huge matching smiles and matching blue eyes.


	157. Child

**6\. Child**

Mycroft walked through the hospital door, he roughly knew every hospital in London, and every step he took reminded him to other steps... Every hallway, every ward... every step heavier than the one before...

Did he miss something? Where was the point in his life where he lost his brother? The moment when he lost everything? He remembered the fire, his screaming mother, his absent father, his lost sister, and his beloved brother...

He left Sherlock alone, and he tried to be there but seven years is a big difference when you're children. If he was younger he would've helped more, but wouldn't understand as much of what happened. If he were older he would never allow them to delete his brother's mind because that was probable the catalyst in turning Sherlock to drugs.

When he found Sherlock's drugs addiction he understood he was a lost child, both of them were lost children in different ways, Sherlock loses his battle against drugs every day, and he loses a bit of his soul everyday too. One day, this might all blow up in their faces, and then where would they be, would Sherlock still be alone? Would Mycroft still be able to pick up the broken pieces of both of them and try to mend it?

He wasn't ready to walk across the last door to see Sherlock again, lying in a hospital bed, almost dead... again... Mycroft sat on the bench outside his brother's room, his head in his hands. His mind full of questions but empty of answers.

"I can't do it again, I can't do it alone anymore, and I feel so alone, where is written I must be the one to carry this weight all alone? Why on earth this is happening to me? Why I cannot live the life I would? Why I cannot have someone who cares about me too, and if I had him, why I have to hide my feelings? This life is giving me only sorrow..." Question upon question filled his mind, and there was no answer. He was so deep in thought that he didn't realise as a tear slid down his cheek, he wasn't even aware that he wanted to cry. The door opened but he never heard, never had a chance to put the mask back on, and when a hand touched his shoulder he was startled.

"Mr Holmes... Mycroft..."

He jumped for the surprise then looked at the man grouched on his knees near him, his warm hand on his arm now.

"No need to worry Mycroft, the doctors said he is doing better, his body fighting the drugs." His voice was so soft, steady and filled with concern that he tried to wipe the tear without Greg seeing it, but he did and he didn't say anything.

"I should thank you again Detective Inspector Lestrade"

"Greg..." Greg said, staring at Mycroft in that steadfast way he can do, it fills him strength although he will never admit it.

"Pardon?"

"You always call me by my title and now with my last name too... You missed my first name maybe you forgot it, so I helped you...that's all...you can go inside if you want, I need a coffee and something to eat. It will be a long night; could I bring something to you, tea or coffee?"

While the man was talking Mycroft observed how life was odd, that old saying of 'speaking of the devil' flashed through his mind.

"Thank you. But you don't have to stay any more, maybe someone is waiting for you at home…" Greg gave him a small sad smile.

"My house is dark and nobody is waiting for me outside these doors. I think I should stay where people I care about need my help...home is where heart is, Mycroft... anyway… tea or coffee?" He quickly changed the subject before he said too much. But he did, Mycroft saw through it, and like Greg didn't say anything about the tear, so would he be quiet.

"Perhaps a cup of tea, Det..." The man glared at him "Right. Gregory. Thank you again"

Gregory nodded smiling as he turned to go to the small cafeteria at the end of the hallway. Mycroft thought of what Greg said. "Home is where heart is…so where is his heart? Where is Greg's?


	158. Please call

**7\. Please call**

Mycroft was in his hotel room, packing up and gathering his things to go home. He has been away for about a week now, and although he has been gone longer in the past, this is the first time a week as felt like forever. It was cold where he was, and the indoor heating wasn't as good as what he had in his home - in their home. Even though the heating wasn't up to scratch he still had Gregory to warm him up.

He was just finished with packing when his phone rang.

"Anthea?" He asked, she wasn't supposed to call him, the meetings were done, and they were both packing and will meet each other downstairs to go to the airport.

"We've been compromised." Her voices was clipped and to the point. Mycroft closed the curtains, his mind already working overtime with the contingency plan to get them out if they were to be compromised.

"Have you activated protocol Zero?"

"Yes, will rendezvous in five minutes at the kitchen, we need to leave our luggage behind, as well as our phones."

"Excellent, if I may ask can you please call Greg and tell him we might not make it to the wine tasting we planned for tomorrow. The wine tasting tomorrow is off, tell him that." They had a code; Greg insisted if something came up, that might compromise Mycroft in any way he should be informed that he can contact Lady Smallwood to ensure that all necessary precautions be taken, plus to ensure that Mycroft is backstabbed by the people who are supposed to get him out.

"Yes sir. I will call him. Will you call the embassy?"

"Yes. See you at the kitchen, four minutes now."

"Four minutes." They both hang up at the same time and did what they were trained for. They met up at the kitchen where their contact was waiting for. They just left the hotel when they could hear an explosion, Mycroft looked up, and it was the sixth floor, the floor he and Anthea were on. They looked at each other. They gave a small nod. Both parties informed, now they just have to stay low and find a way home.


	159. Computer bag

**8\. Computer bag**

It was only late the afternoon that Greg realised it was gone. Sherlock took it that is the only explanation. He was helping on the case and was uttering phrases and sentences that he couldn't follow. He left in a huff with John on his heels and he was so busy at the time, that he didn't think much of it, until he was sitting at his desk, the case open in front of him, that he realised that Sherlock has been quiet…to quiet as the characters in movies would say.

He closed his eyes in realization, his hands running through his hair. He picked up his phone.

" _Did you steal the computer bag? GL"_

"Borrowed. SH"

" _Stealing, the word is stealing and since you didn't follow protocol all evidence you find will be inadmissible to use. GL"_

" _What I found solve the case. SH"_

" _In case you didn't know, which you didn't, since you found it too boring and mundane, the Yard has new procedures in place about collecting and storing evidence. GL"_

" _Part of this means that all evidence is to be checked at intervals by a computer scanner. The scanning today is at 6pm. It is 4:30 now…either you bring the bag to me right now, or the case gets thrown out and I will tell the family it is your fault. GL"_

"You wouldn't. SH"

" _So you are more concerned with your name than a murderer that walks free…interesting…_

_Still I would. I'm done with you stealing evidence and your refusal to work with me, and prefer against me. You have 1 hour. GL"_

He put the phone down, he knew he was harsh, but he couldn't let this man get free, and if the scanning pick up that there was tampering with evidence outside the Yard, he can lose his job, and he promised himself – and Mycroft - that he would learn to stand up against Sherlock. This is a good way to practise.


	160. Drop dead

**9\. Drop dead**

They were watching a play and it was opening night and everything. Mycroft and Greg had some of the best seats in the theatre and the atmosphere was wonderful. They have been hard-pressed these past few weeks to find some quality time together and when tickets became available they booked it, come high or low, case or death or even Sherlock, nothing was going to ruin their night.

Well, Karma must have heard it…

Or some other bitchy vindictive little ear….

The play was going wonderfully, they had dinner before and was enjoying this moment, their bodies turned towards each other, their hands clasping tight, the smiles broad and they eyes sparkling.

The interval was spent a quick run to the bathroom, a refill on their wine and then snogging in their little corner. It is a good thing their cubicle was high and could be closed off…

It was in the second half that it happened. Mycroft leaned closer his eyes narrowing. Greg's instincts were on high alert, he followed.

"Love? Everything okay?"

"The main actress, she doesn't look good, she is going to collapse." Greg widens his eyes and looked at the stage, they were some distance as the actress was covered in heavy make-up, and he had no idea why Mycroft said that. They forget to look at the play, their attention on the girl. Mycroft pulled out his phone and Greg could see him requesting an ambulance.

It wasn't ten minutes later when the climax happened and angered protagonist yelled his line "Drop dead Lula!" that she fell, the crowd gasped at the convincing act, but Mycroft turned to Greg.

"We should go the ambulance is here, she doesn't look good. We will be stuck for ages."

"Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"From the looks of her hands, that kept twitching I would say exhaustion or dehydration. Nothing serious." They got up when the crowd went silent; they turned to the stage to see the man looking frantically around. He started screaming.

"Help, she's dead!" The crowd burst out laughing, thinking it was part of the act but Greg and Mycroft turned to each other, shocked.

"Nothing serious?" Greg asked as he held out his hand to the stage.

"There's always something."

"Mycroft." He looked ashamed for two minutes.

"You do realise this is going to be your case, our evening is ruined."

"Well I didn't plan it." Mycroft took Greg's hand.

"I'm sorry, you are right, I was just really looking forward to spend the night with you." Greg leaned over and kissed him.

"I know, maybe we can wrap this up quickly and leave the rest for tomorrow?" Mycroft smiled and nodded. They looked back at the stage to see that there was some serious commotion, they could hear someone loudly declare: "So when she was supposed to drop dead, she dropped dead?" Greg looked at Mycroft. Mycroft just nodded.

"Yeah, I'll help clearing the area."


	161. Blinking light

**10\. Blinking light**

This was so not how he wanted his day to go, this wasn't supposed to happen. He had a gut feeling about the crime scene and came back and made the rookie mistake of going alone. To top it off he in true 'idiot' style he didn't even tell anyone where he was going. He felt ridiculous and super stupid. If there was a cape and super power for stupidity he would be the hero wearing it now.

The crime scene was on the tenth floor of a block of high class flats. The victim somehow killed himself, but there was not weapon. It was a case that was making everyone on edge, they knew it was suicide, Molly confirmed it, but without any weapon, there was no way to close the case.

He went to go get lunch and on his way back he had an idea, taking a detour he went back to the crime scene to test out his theory. He got there and removed his jacket and put on his gloves, his phone rang but he was too late to answer it, so he put it on the small dresser. It was Sally, he would talk to her when he get back to the office.

He looked around and found nothing that would explain why the weapon was missing. Back in the living room he saw something at the balcony railing. Frowning he opened the door and went outside to have a better look. Grouching down he looked down and saw the case breaker, behind the pot plant was a small silver balloon. It was one of those big ones, used at parties. Picking it up and as he looked a smile broke out.

No way…

The victim was found in the doorway, the door open…the gun was a small .22 calibre lightweight weapon. He looked up at the sky then back down. He tied the weapon to a balloon, shot himself and the gun went into the air…

He wonders what Sherlock would have to say about that. He turned around and just then a gust of wind blew against the door, it slammed shut.

"No." He yelled but it was no use. The door was locked. His hands went to his pocket only to realise his phone was on the dresser, less than a metre from him, and there was nothing he could do.

Oh great.

He looked over to see if he could call anyone, but he was to high up, there was nothing to do, but to hope someone finds him. The best bet would be Mycroft or someone from the Yard. Well until then he just have to make himself comfortable.

He sat down on the concrete floor. He could hear ringing and as he looked he saw someone was calling him. Oh too bad...

The ringing stopped and the blinking light went on to let him know there was a voice message, nothing he can do about it now…

About half an hour later it rang again, he looked at it: Mycroft. Oooh now he will be found, he might as well stand up…well he is quite comfortable where he is sitting…he will wait…

He was right, twenty minutes later a man in a suit followed by a man with a gun, a doctor and paramedic arrived in the room. Mycroft was standing behind them, looking worried. Luckily Greg was standing, not even thinking what they would have done if he was lying on the balcony floor. He caught Mycroft's eye. Mycroft wasn't too impressed. Greg shrugged.

"Sorry Love." He mouthed as Mycroft walked over and picked up his phone before he unlocked the door.

"Gregory…"

"Would it help if I say I solve the case?" Mycroft gave him one look at Greg, the balcony and the balloon.

"The gun is somewhere out there tied to a balloon isn't it?" Greg just smiled broadly.

"That's why I love you…"


	162. Charging

**11\. Charging**

The steam was still rising out of the teapot, little calming swirls into the air, the butter was creamy and soft, the bread was still warm from the toast, golden brown and crispy, the marmalade was tangy and sticky looking like liquid gold in the jar. The weather played nice too, basking the Sunday morning in beautiful warm glow. It was idyllic.

The two men were still in their gowns, sitting at the table with confidence, ready to take it easy and enjoy the day. This picture wasn't an everyday occurrence, now…it was a hard to arrange luxury on both their parts. One was the British Government and was on call practically 24/7 or 25/8 as Greg would joke. Greg on the other hand was usually the first to be called out with a case, he was the eldest DI, with the most experience so when it is a high profile case, it would fall under him.

Still, they made sure, and they worked hard for the day, on day, in a week where their schedules would match and they can have some quality time. The only time this wasn't followed through was when Mycroft was abroad.

Nothing would come between them and their day off…

Nothing…

Did they say nothing….?

The shrill tone of the Empire March from Star Wars started playing, the phone vibrated with the intensity of the sound. The… 'ta ta ta tatata tatata...ta ta ..tatata…' echoed in the room. Greg narrowed his eyes and sent the phone death glares. Mycroft sighed.

"You should answer my dear." He suggested as he spread the butter over his toast. Greg shook his head and took swallowed the food in his mouth.

"Huh uh, it's my day off. Grayson is on duty, his problem. Besides we have plans." Greg insisted and placed another slice of bread in his plate.

The phone stopped and Greg gave a joyful smirk.

"Oh hey…it stopped…thank you…." He mumbled to the phone as if it could hear him. After the butter he spread some marmalade on his toast, not a care in the world.

They continued eating when Mycroft's phone started ringing, they both froze, the toast mid-air, they look at each other sharing the stunned expressions.

"Coincidences do not exist." He muttered and picked up his phone, Greg groaning and dropping his head.

"It's Sherlock." Mycroft informed Greg and then answered.

"Brother mine…did the Sunday atmosphere inspire you to call out of free will? Greg smirked. Mycroft listened to his brother as Greg watched Mycroft. His curiosity spiked.

"….."

"Oh…yes, that is true but there is another DI on duty…."

"Oh…."

"Sally said that?" Greg's expression changed from relaxed to worry, those two are always in each other's hair. Mycroft looked at Greg.

"I will tell him…see you later then…" Mycroft put down his phone.

"What did she Sherlock say? And what did Sherlock say? Is she okay?"

"Yes, yes she is fine." Mycroft took a sip of tea before continuing.

"She tried to call you, then she called Sherlock…you are a great supported of the local football team isn't it?" Greg narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, you know I am. What's going on?"

"Well…turns out, that the reason Sally tried to call you, is that the local goalkeeper has been stabbed to death during a brawl in a strip club tonight and she fought since you know about the team, you might like to have a look…" Mycroft could see the excitement in Greg's eyes, the adrenalin starting to rise; he was hardly done before Greg stood up.

"Wow, okay, I'm going to put my clothes on!" He exclaimed and run upstairs leaving an exasperated partner at the table.

"You don't have to rush, we have time…he is still dead..." Mycroft called after Greg but Greg was already in his room getting dressed. Mycroft stood up and put the plates in the sink, he reached for his phone to call for a car, when he remembered it was their day off, they will have to drive themselves. He shrugged, maybe Greg can hurry up and they can still do something after they were done.

Fifteen minutes later they were in Greg's car on their way to the crime scene. Greg was happy but still a little upset.

"Getting killed on my day off…really….unbelievable…." He glanced at Mycroft.

"Why are you coming alone, you're not usually interested in murders." They arrived at the crime scene and Greg stopped the car, Mycroft turned to him.

"It's my day off and we will spend it together, no matter how. And maybe I'm not really interested in soccer; this does give one a whole new meaning to 'charging the goalkeeper'


	163. Sheep

**12\. Sheep**

Greg was scrolling through his twitter feed; he was bored and didn't feel like doing paperwork. There's quite a few people and organisations that he follows, and most of them is community based, London traffic and the Met, a few he follows for fun, some funny pages, there's the usual inspirational story one, and then there is the few that he is really proud of, Wipe-Homophobia is one of them, it shares great stories, it keeps him informed and is just great to follow, this morning they had one that asked, what you would do, If you were invisible for a day, or describe your sex life with a movie title….well he wasn't going to do that.

Anyway, they keep sharing this wonderful online shopping website, where you can buy all kinds of products, like mugs and t-shirts to show your support for the lgbtq community. On impulse he clicked on it and browsed through their selection. One caught his eye and before he knew it, he was ordering something.

He forgot about until the package was delivered. Smiling he opened it and took out the contents. This would be wonderful. He showed it Mycroft and he laughed, not at the content, but the idea behind the gift.

The next morning he made his way over to Baker Street. John was at the clinic and Sherlock was doing some kind of experiment. Greg came in and handed the small box to Sherlock.

"What is this?" He asked sceptically.

"Something for you to use instead of John's mugs for experiments." Greg watched as he opened it his eyes going wide and then rolling it, still Greg could see he actually liked it.

"You do realise that it would become clear now." Sherlock stated as he took the mug out. Greg nodded.

"Yeah, but has never been a problem for you." He left leaving Sherlock holding the mug close. When John came home he found Sherlock sitting at the table, an experiment in front of him, but what drew his attention was the mug, still half filled with tea. He looked at it, a frown on his face, before his eyes glanced at Sherlock and back again.

"New mug?"

"Lestrade bought it, said I should leave yours alone for my experiments." John nodded reading the label. "I'm the rainbow sheep of the family"


	164. Plan

  **13\. Plan**

It was supposed to be a surprise but of course nothing ever turns out the way it is supposed to when the Holmes's were involved. It was supposed to be their one year anniversary and as always Sherlock made a comment – the wrong one and Mycroft misunderstood and now they are fighting. Mycroft decided that he didn't feel like listening to Greg, and haven't spoken to him in two weeks.

Every time he calls, he gets the same message. 'Mr Holmes is unavailable.' How is he supposed to explain when he isn't given a chance?

He hasn't even looked at Sherlock since that day, and just the mere mention of his name would make him shaking with fury.

Mycroft on the other hand was hurt, he thought he and Greg would make it, then Sherlock made that comment about seeing Greg having dinner with another man and he lost all sense of sense really, he didn't even wait for Greg to explain, he just turned around and walked away.

He came back from Cambodia yesterday and the first thing he did was having a proper lunch in his favourite restaurant. He was sitting alone, in his usual seat and would refuse to look up, if he did that Greg's silhouette would fill that space and it would hurt. He was so in thought that he never saw the man approaching him.

"Mr Holmes?" He looked up to see young man, he was very handsome and he was looking at Mycroft as if he was unsure whether to approach him.

"Yes?" He replied, eyeing the man up and down.

"Oh good, wasn't sure but the picture was quite different."

"I'm sorry, what picture, I can assure you, my picture hasn't appeared in any paper."

"No, the one Greg showed me." Mycroft froze. His eyes turning into lasers as he looked at the man.

"Excuse me?" His voice was like ice, and the man visible trembled."

"Your partner, he showed it to me, when we had lunch to make arrangements." Mycroft was furious, how dare this man talk about arrangements he and 'Greg' made. This is the man, who was with Greg when Sherlock saw them.

"I don't know who you are, but I will find out, and you will regret it, how dare you talk to my face about your plans with Gregory? Was the deceit not enough?" Mycroft growled out. The man's eyes popped out in fear.

"It was meant to be a surprise, for your anniversary…"

"What?" Mycroft asked. The conversation was turning more peculiar by the minute.

"You're one year anniversary, he asked me to arrange for the planetarium to be closed, so you two could be alone."

A dreaded feeling overcame Mycroft.

"Tell me everything." He demanded.

"I'm Timothy Hastings, the director at the Planetarium, Greg helped me with a case a few years back and I said if he needed my help, he should just ask, a month ago he asked if he could hire the planetarium for one night, for his one year anniversary, he said he didn't had the money for expensive gifts and special treatment, so he made a plan to do something else, and he asked me to help. I agreed." Mycroft couldn't believe what he was hearing; this all was one big misunderstanding. He needed to fix this, and soon. He didn't bother with saying good-bye or finishing his lunch, he grabbed his umbrella and practically run out the place, he needed to fix this, somehow. He only hopes Greg would listen to him.


	165. Beer goggles

  **14\. Beer goggles**

Greg was sitting at his desk, writing up the last report for the case. He was tired and a little bit sad. He hated cases like this. The ending could've been so much different if people just talk, if they just use some common sense and talk, but now, they would live in bitterness and one day one would snap.

He is not blind to the fact that he and his ex-wife was heading down the same path, if they didn't get a divorce. Thinking back Sherlock's fateful words was a but uncalled for, but in the end, needed. He and his wife knew things weren't going well, but they didn't talk, they swept it under the rug and pretended everything was fine. Until Christmas.

He should actually one day thank Sherlock for his interference, but then again, Sherlock knew that Greg didn't hold it against him.

"Am I interrupting?" The voice was soft and steady at the door. Greg looked up and his face broke out in smile. He should thank Sherlock for intervening, because now he has this wonderful man in front of him.

"Hi Love, no, come on in, I just need to finish this paragraph then we can go." He replied. Mycroft sat down in the chair, easing back and making himself comfortable. He only does that in Greg's office when they are alone.

"Rough case?" He asked as Greg finishes writing and packing up.

"Yeah, two people who never should've married, they got bitter and resentful and the husband killed the wife when she started an affair."

"Sometimes I wonder why people get married and involved if they knew it would end badly."

"I think…" Greg started and looked over Mycroft's shoulder as he thought back into his own situation.

"…that sometimes the proverbial 'beer goggles' extends to more than just drinking, I think we see stuff for what they are, but we ignore it for what could be, for the hope that things would change, that things would get better."

Mycroft eyed him closely.

"But it doesn't."

"No, it doesn't. But it does get better, when you meet the person you're supposed to be with."

"Like me."

Greg winked.

"Yes, we were extremely fortunate; you know I was actually thinking how I should thank Sherlock for his interference."

"Oh good Lord don't, that would give him permission to never stop."

Greg burst out laughing and pulled on his coat.

"Yeah, I should just find him a gory case."


	166. Utilities

**15\. Utilities**

Few things in life test a relationship as money. Money in the sense of bills, who pays what the utilities, the groceries, the taxes, the garden and all of that. In theory everything sounds perfect. The great 'were moving in' the great happy ever after until reality checks in.

Greg wasn't aware of just how much Mycroft has, and what living with him would entail and everything in him was protesting against it all. He wasn't use to it, he was middle class, he did his own laundry, he bought his own food and he made his own bed. To say there were a few teething problems is an understatement. There were some pretty bad fights and misunderstandings. In the end it all came down to a compromise. It came to down to the two of them sitting around a table and talking openly and directly. No pride to keep them from moving forward, no shame about the difference in their pay. It took time, it didn't happen overnight, but sometimes, when the desire to work is there, the passion to build up and not tear down, the love to overcome the obstacles a good compromise can be achieved. In the end the only thing that matters is the way Greg would light up Mycroft's world and the way Mycroft would surrender to the warm embrace that Greg would give. An embrace that is more than just arms, it is an embrace into every part of his world.


	167. Text message

  **16 Text message**

The three occupants stared at one another in the office. The tension was high John was looking down, his hands behind his back in his soldier's posture, the one where he knows what happened was wrong, but it was fun. The one that would also say, 'I can take it' and 'I'm sorry the murderer got away' Sherlock actually did try to look apologetic but it was failing. Greg leaned over his desk, his fists resting on the table.

"Do you know what a text message is used for, Sherlock! Bloody hell man! It's called Communication!" Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but Greg held up his hand.

"Don't. You are not allowed to work on your own, not when it is an official Yard investigation, what the two of you do on your own, is your business, you are called an Consultant Detective, because you consult, you do not have the authority to go on your own Sherlock, this is the last time the I'm allowing you on a case."

"Oh please…" Sherlock started. Greg slammed his hand down on the table. His face immediately contorted into a grimace. The pain on his face evident. John stepped closer but one look of Greg stopped him. He turned back to Sherlock.

"The murderer got away because you thought you were too good to send a text, that is something you have to live with, now get out, both of you." Greg looked down at his hand; it was already starting to swell.

John tried last time to get to Greg.

"We are sorry…let…"

"GET OUT!" Greg yelled.

"My job is on the line here, I can lose it because of this, and no 'sorry' would get it back." He growled out. The door opened and Sally stepped in, pulled on Sherlock's sleeve.

"Get out, just go…" She ordered.

Greg watched as they both left his office his anger transforming into frustration and pain. He definitely broke something. Sally stepped closer her eyes on his hand.

"Come on, I'll drive you to the hospital."

Two hours later Greg got home, wishing the day would just end. His right hand was in a cast, he broke his little finger when he slammed it against the table. It hurt, he was tired, he was angry and he was pissed. The only thing he wanted to do was get in bed. He made his way to his room when his phone rang.

"Hi Mycroft." He greeted.

"My dear…I heard Sherlock was particularly fruitful in his attempt to drive you mad today."

Greg snorted and sat down on the bed. Mycroft didn't mention the cast, so he decided he wasn't going to either, Mycroft has enough on his plate.

"When is he not successful? You know, one text message and we would've caught him, now he is already on the other side of the world." Greg gave a frustrated sigh; he was going to struggle to get undressed with only one hand.

"I'm aware at how frustrating it could be, I can however try to lift your mood by saying I might be home sooner, tomorrow even."

That was cheering Greg up.

"Yeah? That would be great."

"I thought so. I have to go."

"Yeah sure, thanks for calling and I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

"I can't wait. Good night my dear."

"Good night. Oh love you."

When they hang up, Greg was smiling; his mood had just improved a great deal. Struggling to undress and clean up, he was tired when he finally got into bed, the telly on with some drama playing out. It took him twice as long to clean up and his anger was back in full force. His phone buzzed with a text. He rolled his eyes, he really really do not want to talk to anyone, not even by message. He lifted his phone.

" _ **How curious life is, my dear Gregory, Sherlock sent me a text message to tell me you broke your finger 5 minutes after it happened... Good night My Love" MH**_

Greg eyed the message and sighed.

"Bloody Holmes's."


	168. An agreement

**17\. An agreement**

Mycroft helped Greg to clean up after dinner, he has been rather quiet and Greg was unsure of did he do something wrong or is there something on Mycroft's mind. They quickly washed up and sat down on the sofa. Mycroft sat up straight and handed Greg a piece of paper.

"What is this?"

"Just read it." Greg read it and the more he read the more excited and confused he was getting. When he was done he looked at Mycroft.

"Mycroft…are you trying to propose to me?"

"If that is the word you want to use, I made a list on why an agreement of permanent cohabitation would benefit us both."

"You mean, you list all the reasons on why we should get married – this is your happily ever after list." Greg started to smile. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"I am merely suggesting that we should become permanent."

Greg looked back at the paper.

"4. It would be more beneficial for our relationship to share a house and bed as it would improve the time spending together…what you are saying is that you just want to be with me more…holding me as you sleep, waking up next to me…"

"Yes, that can work as well." Mycroft responded. Greg nodded and looked again at the paper.

"7. It would save money and time if we live together on going to work from one place and back home to one place, instead of two – so you want us to drive together to work and back home, because you love me and can't be without me…"

"Well…" Mycroft tried.

"Because you were never this economic with finances and time constraint now…" Greg said.

"It is never too late to start saving." Mycroft replied nonchalantly. Greg nodded and continued.

"12. The quality of time would be greatly improved by sharing a meal every night – you just like my cooking…"

"You do have a certain touch in the kitchen department." Mycroft agreed.

"Just the kitchen department?" Greg asked with a cheeky smile. He put the paper down and lowered himself on his knees in front of Mycroft. He took his hand and kissed the palm.

"Mycroft, I would gladly live with you, sleep with you, cook for you, share a ride with you and everything in that list and so much more, I would gladly spent my life wearing your ring, if you promise to love me forever, as I would you?" Mycroft pulled Greg closer, his hands on Greg's hips.

"An agreement I would happily make."


	169. Life after divorce

**18\. Life after divorce**

It was late and the party had slowed down, only half of the invited guests were left over. Sally had decided to arrange a party for Greg after his divorce was finalized. The "I'm-a-freeman-now-thank-God' party was a huge success.

The guest of honour, however was drunk…not so drunk that he had passed out on the floor, or danced on the counter, but still drunk enough. Mycroft sat in the furthest corner of the bar stools, overlooking everything. He had a half full glass of scotch in front of him. He arrived with the party already in full swing with Greg already drunk. Not for the first time that night did he wondered exactly why he agreed to come, but then that little voice in his head told him exactly why. He was at Baker Street when Greg told him he was invited and the he 'just had to be there' and 'must come' and Greg was looking at him with those eyes and he couldn't say no.

Sherlock and John had left about half an hour ago and even though Mycroft really wanted to leave, he couldn't leave Gregory alone. Although he wasn't alone in the pub, the rest of the people were way drunker than he was and had someone to take them home, except Gregory. He had no one to look after him, and he would not dare to ask himself, why he feels the need to fill that role, no, he would not.

It was about ten minutes later when Greg finally made it over to his side of the bar, he rested his arms on the counter, his head in his palm, as if his head was too heavy to be held up on its own, which it probably was at this point.

"You know Myc.. , I am..I'm very happy that you are here tonight."

"You're welcome." Mycroft replied and Greg gave him a wide smile, with his free hand he waved it around the room.

"All my friends came…and colleagues…didn't know I had so many friends…anyhow…I'm happy….did I tell you I'm happy you're here…?"

"Yes, you did." Mycroft replied not taking his eyes of Greg. Greg smiled and nodded.

"Good….cause I am…oh…I need the loo…" He spun around looking around the room before he turned back to Mycroft and whispered.

"Do you know where the loo is?"

"Fifteen steps straight on your right." Greg nodded and started walking left; he was going with Mycroft's right side. Mycroft stood up.

"No…your right….come on…let me help you." Mycroft held on arm as he directed Greg to the bathrooms, he helped Greg inside and opened a cubicle door, and it would probably be easier to use than the other option.

"I'll wait here, don't lock the door…I don't want to break it down to rescue you…" Greg smiled and nodded, and made a feeble attempt at a salute before going in and as promised just closed the door, it swung a bit back so Mycroft could see that instead of relieving his bladder he relieved his stomach by throwing up everything he had drunk the night. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Luckily it wasn't on my shoes." He mumbled and looked down to his shiny black leather shoes. He waited till Greg was finished, then he did relieved his bladder before he stepped out and made his way to the sink, where he proceeded to rinse his mouth of the bile, and splattered his face as well. The droplets fell down his collar and some went into his hair. He looked up at the mirror and took a breath, his eyes fell on Mycroft.

"Hey, you're still here, sorry about that…" He pointed to the bathroom.

"Don't worry about that, and yes, no one else in the world is requiring my help so here I am."

"Awesome for me..." Greg replied and tried to walk but lost his balance. Mycroft reached forward and took hold of Greg's arm to hold him up.

"Thanks…I can really do with some coffee now…" Greg said as they made their way out of the bathroom. Mycroft took him to the corner he was sitting and ordered a strong black coffee for Greg.

The coffee did his job and by the time he finished it, he was more coherent and better looking, a less green…

"Thanks Mycroft."

"You don't have to thank me Gregory, if I'm not mistaken it is what friends do…if we are…I'm not sure…" Mycroft mumbled with a frown, wondering who the drunken one was now.

"You are not mistaken…to be honest…you are kind of my only true friend…I mean you stayed to look after me…when everyone has left….and back there in the bathroom…that is what best friends do…and if you'd like we should really have dinner sometime." Mycroft looked at Greg in surprise to see that big brown eyes fixed on him; it was filled with hope and a seriousness…

"Dinner?" He asked with a frown. Greg nodded.

"Yes, would you like to have dinner with me?"

Mycroft didn't know what to say, this is a conversation he hasn't really had before, and it was a bit strange…he wasn't sure whether his interest is being reciprocated or if Greg was just trying to be nice, the look however said something different, however the man was drunk and recently divorced.

"You are drunk Gregory, we should talk about this dinner request when you are sober." Mycroft responded. Greg looked hurt for a moment but nodded.

"Yeah…probably…I think I need a walk." He replied and got up, his legs were uneasy but he ignored it and made his way to the door. Mycroft quickly grabbed their coats and followed him.

"Where are you going in the middle of the night?"

Greg looked back as Mycroft followed him.

"Some fresh and crisp air will do me good; clear my head a little…" Greg replied and started walking down the street.

"Not in your condition, it is dangerous, you are unarmed and half drunk, let me come with you." Greg stopped and waved him over. The started walking when Greg stopped and looked at him.

"If I'm half drunk and unarmed…tell me what is the difference, since you are sober and unarmed too…" Mycroft tried to think of something but noticed how Greg was blowing on his hands to warm them up, he handed Greg his jacket and they quickly got dressed.

"I do have my umbrella." Mycroft finally said as they started walking. Greg laughed and looked up.

"Great, it is such a rainy night anyway…" Mycroft just shrugged and they started walking again. They made it all the way to Greg's home with some light conversation. Greg turned around and saw the familiar black car.

"You bastard, your security have been following us the entire time." Greg was smiling fondly at Mycroft who smiled back.

"You were the one who said an umbrella wasn't good enough. I bid you a good night Gregory and may I suggest a glass of water."

Greg nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." They said their goodbyes and once Greg was inside he drank two glasses of ice cold water before he passed out on his bed.

It was already mid-afternoon when he woke up, his head pounding and his bladder full, he took two painkillers to calm his headache and took a nice long shower. It was just when he washed his hair that he realised the nights events, he flirted with Mycroft and asked him out. He always had some interest in Mycroft but never acted on it, apparently drunken Greg thought otherwise. He groaned and rested his head against the tile…he really should apologise or he would never have the courage to look him in the eye again. He finished his shower and sat on the bed, with his towel around him and the phone in hand.

" _Mycroft, I'm sorry for everything I did or told last tonight. GL"_

The reply came quick.

" **Nothing to apologise for, as I told you yesterday we could talk about your dinner request once you were sober." MH**

Greg smiled reading Mycroft's answer. This was filling him with some hope.

" _Are you telling if I were sober I could ask you for a date? "GL_

" _ **That's what you read" MH**_

" _I'm sober now. Would you like to have a dinner with me next weekend?" GL_

" **I'll keep my schedule open. Friday will be fine" MH**

" _You know Mycroft If I knew my life after divorce would have been so interesting I would get it years ago" GL_


	170. Glue stick

**19\. Glue stick**

Mycroft ended the conversation with the Chinese Ambassador just as Anthea entered his office. He immediately looked concerned.

"It's not serious; I got a call from the twin's teacher."

"Why did she call then? And why didn't she call us directly."

"If the school calls, depending on the situation I would handle before I would sent it to you."

"What did she want?"

"She asked to see you and Greg in her office tomorrow morning half an hour before the party, I already cleared both your schedule and Greg's for tomorrow.

"Thank you…I do wonder what she wants to discuss…" Mycroft added the last part, more to himself than to Anthea.

"She sounded calm over the phone, I'm sure it is nothing."

Mycroft nodded.

"I have an appointment with the prime minister, could you please update Gregory?"

With a nod, she left him to finish his work.

It was late when Mycroft got home, the twins were ready to go to bed, and he followed his usual routine to read them their bed time story and afterwards joined Greg in the kitchen for dinner, the food still warm. He started eating and his focus on the teacher's meeting.  
"I wonder what Miss. Debenham wants to talk to us tomorrow…I kept thinking about possibilities….the one more unlikely than the next…except…."

Greg looks up knowing exactly what his husband is thinking.

"The fact they have two fathers? I thought the same when Anthea called…but I don't know…she didn't seem the type…"

"But one can never truly know a person."

Greg nodded and finishes his meal, Mycroft did the same. As they made their way upstairs Greg pulled Mycroft close.

"Listen Love…if she or the school does have problems with us, there are a lot more schools in London, and we will be okay." Mycroft pulled him close.

"As always you know just how to calm my mind."

They met outside the school, Greg was already there trying to calm his nerves with a cigarette. Mycroft climbed out of the car and made his way over to Greg who threw the cigarette away and greeted Mycroft with a quick kiss.

They made their way over to the front door and went inside. The classrooms were filled with children, the twin's age group was preparing for an art exhibit for the parents and both Mycroft and Greg was happy to find out what the twins made.

Mycroft and Greg entered the office where Miss Debenham was already waiting for them.

"Good morning Mr Holmes, Detective Lestrade, thank you for meeting me."

"It's no problem, is everything okay?" Greg asked immediately as they sat down.

"Oh no, there is no problem, they are wonderful, to be honest, exceptionally mannered, and even though they are always together and smarter than the rest, they still have their own friends and get along with everybody."

"But why…" Mycroft started.

"I would like to show you their art project." They looked at each other and then back at the teacher who opened her drawer. She took out a box and opening the lid turned it towards them, inside was a white and red soccer ball.

"Your son made this 'Arsenal' ball, cause his 'Da' loves them and his 'Daddy' is always smiling when his 'Da' mentions his 'awesome team'."

Greg and Mycroft split open into matching grins and Mycroft squeezed Greg's hand, after all it is true.

She took out another box and opened it, they look inside and then turned to each other, both with matching exasperating faces.

"We can explain…" Greg started.

"It's all to do with…"

"Your brother, uncle Sherlock right?" She finishes for them.

They nodded as one.

"According to the twins, he has a skull on his mantelpiece and they have decided that he is alone, so Mark wants to give him the ball so uncle Sherlock can teach him to play and Amberley build him a hand out of glue sticks so he can hold the ball, they even asked if we can build him a whole skeleton." Mycroft look at the hand again, she used glue sticks for the fingers and stuck it all together, it looked precise, five fingers, with knuckles everything, he was really proud of her and from the look on his husband face, so was he.

"Mr Holmes I have to ask…the skull at your brother…"

"It is not real." Greg quickly added. He and Mycroft both knew it was fake but she didn't need to know that.

"Yes. His flatmate is a doctor and he has one of those specimen skulls…" Mycroft allied along.

"Oh, that is a relief." The teacher exclaimed.

The rest of the meeting went quickly, and it was only when they were outside sharing a cigarette before the exhibition that they relaxed. Greg burst out laughing.

"A hand! Can you imagine Sherlock's face when he sees it?"

"Or the meaning behind it." Mycroft added a little softly. Greg knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" Mycroft sighed.

"She built a near perfect replica of a skeleton hand, she is only four."

Greg took his hand.

"Hey, yes, she did, she is a Holmes, and very clever, they both are, but she is not like that, you don't have to be afraid, they did it cause they though their uncle was alone, that Sherlock's skull was alone and wanted to make him less alone, that right there tells you, that her heart, is in a good place."

"But Gregory..."

"She is not Euros, she is not going to turn out like that, or like Sherlock or you, she has us, both of us, and she has her brother and you have nothing to worry about." Mycroft nodded and lowered his shoulders, the tension leaving it. Gregory is right, so she knows how to build a skeleton hand, but as he said, she is not alone, she did it to help, and he is shouldn't let his fears get in the way. He smiled.

"You're right, you can go in if you want, I need to make a call."

Greg smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Don't be too long okay?"

Mycroft waited till Greg was walking back into the building before he took out his phone.

"Brother Mine…about the skull in your living room…."


	171. Clock wise

**20\. Clock wise**

They were sitting comfortably on the sofa; Mycroft was resting his head against Greg's chest, their legs together.

"Isn't it strange that instead of a movie, we are watching a documentary about Space?" Greg commented his free hand picking up more popcorn.

"Hmm…" Mycroft replied, too lazy to talk. Greg smiled and kissed his head.

They watched the whole show and when it was finished, they stayed snuggling on the sofa.

"We should go to bed." Greg whispered.

"Hu-uh. I'm perfectly comfortable here with you." Mycroft replied.

Greg laughed softly and finally managed to get them to bed. After all tomorrow is a brand new day, and a Monday, neither looking forward to it.

It was nearly the weekend when Greg was reminded of the documentary again. He had a rough few days and apparently so did Mycroft.

" **I work with idiots. MH"**

Greg eyed the text and smiled fondly.

" _I'm sure it is not that bed. GL"_

" **The PM wants to remove a few bus lanes in central ."**

" _Yeah okay. But I can think of a better word than idiot….GL"_

" **I know….im quite familiar with your vocabulary. Anthea is speaking some sense into me in how to handle him, I'm afraid I might be a little under your influence there. MH"**

" _Aaah, it's okay, you can punch him and get away with it. Although Anthea is amazing, maybe because as the saying goes, men are from mars and women from Venus. GL"_

" **You lost me. MH."**

" _Venus is the only planet going clock wise around the sun, everyone else anti clock wise, so she is making sense. GL."_

" **I'm going to tell her that, she'd like that. MH."**

" _Tell her I said it, she'll like me more. GL."_

" **She already does. Have to go. MH."**

" _See you tonight. Love you. GL."_


	172. Synchronised

**21\. Synchronised**

Sherlock sat at the kitchen table watching the two men work. Several times he wanted to say something, give a snarky remark but then one of them would say something or do something and he would be surprised. They would do something so classically 'them' that he wouldn't be able to say anything. He could only watch in amusement.

John's birthday is tomorrow and Sherlock decided he was going to make an effort and bake him a sticky toffee pudding. John said it's been years since he had a proper pudding that was homemade and since Mrs. Hudson is doing the cake, he'll surprise him with this.

Turns out he knew next to nothing about baking but his brother and Lestrade apparently are two boffins in the kitchen.

Greg said that they would help; Sherlock must just buy the ingredients. So here he was sitting in his brother's kitchen watching the two men work.

They were perfectly synchronised in their activities. One would measure out the flour and dry ingredients, while the other would get the milk and eggs and water and so on. They would work around each other in harmony not once bumping against each other.

One would make sure the oven was warm and ready the other the pans are greased.

Occasionally they would say something or make small talk but the atmosphere was light and relaxed.

Once in the oven Greg would pour them each a cup of tea and together they would wait.

"Are you going to get him anything else?"

Greg asked once his tea was finished.

Sherlock shrugged.

"Don't know."

"What about a new pair of boots, didn't he mentioned the other day that his was wearing thin?" Mycroft asked and Sherlock turned to him.

"Yeah...but I'm not going to get those weird hospital shoes made for long periods of time on your feet." Greg laughed at that and the brothers just smiled.

"Yeah, I don't see him in those. Maybe just a normal pair."

"Hmm..." Sherlock looked thoughtful and they knew he was going to buy him that.

The pudding turned out to be the highlight of the evening and Sherlock was happy to see that both his presents were appreciated. He really should thank his brother. Then again, not making any comment or remark while he baked the pudding is thanks enough.


	173. Moonlight

**22\. Moonlight**

Every now and then they would have a moment to themselves, a moment that regardless of whatever is happening around them, they would take a timeout whether it is ten minutes or thirty minutes or longer. In that moment they would be quiet and they would share a touch or two, they would speak with their eyes and with their smiles, their hands and everything else except words.

This was such a moment. Mycroft had been straight at work for three days, he hardly ate or slept, Greg was busy with a serial killer case. Tensions were high and the patience thinly spread in all directions. The media was having a field day with the case and some members of his team. With Mycroft, the people refused to listen to him.

It was hard.

Mycroft called him just after ten at night for a break. Greg was happy and tired when he got there but his face still lit up when Mycroft took his hand and lead him to the stairs. Greg didn't speak as he followed Mycroft up the stairs and onto the roof. There's a little nook where they can look over the river as it waft and wandered between the hussle of buildings and people and businesses that never stopped, that never take a moment to just be.

They stopped against the wall Mycroft holding Greg from behind his arms around the DI in a tight protective hold his chin resting on Greg's broad shoulders. Greg's hands were around Mycroft's arms, holding him close. Both just savouring the moment.

They watched the water as it made little waves as the wind leisure moved over it. The moonlight was casting little rays of broken lights on the water.

This was a moment that meant more than a night's sleep, more than words; it was a moment where they knew that sometimes the silence can speak more loudly than noise ever could.

It was a moment where they connected, a moment to saviour.


	174. I see a red door

**23\. I see a red door**

The phone has been ringing nonstop for two day now, but Greg didn't answer, he didn't even switch on his lights. What's the point? Whether he is sitting in the dark or light, sitting is he sitting. The case hit him hard. A man, no a father, a dad, assaulted his kid and in a rage killed him. The woman was on a business trip and it just so happened that when she arrived at the crime scene just as they removed the body, she screamed. God it was awful, her loud empty grief stricken cries echoed above the noise of the ambulance and street noise. It shook him to the core.

The husband at that point still pretended to know nothing was wrong tried to comfort her but she gave him one look and knew. She called him out in front of everyone and he, in a fit of rage attached her, he slammed her head against the car, shattering the front windscreen. Greg was the first to reach her, his men were able to contain him, pulled him away and Greg tried to help her. She bled out in his arms. It was only when he saw her that he recognised her; they used to date at Uni. Strange how after more than thirty years, he still remembered her, and it just so happened that he was the one on her son's case, that she bled and died in his arms. He really loved her, he was going to propose to her, but then they broke up.

He finally stood up, the house was suffocating him, and he needed to get out. He needed to get away as far as possible from this place, from these streets. He packed his overnight back and dressed into his leathers. Picking up his iPod he made his way to his bike.

He had no idea where he was going but wherever it is, it is not London.

He made sure the earphones were snug in his ear and against his skin before he put the helmet on. He pressed play and the Rolling Stones blasted through his ears, his favourite song comforting him with every drum slam and guitar string, his mouth automatically singing along _: "I see a red door and I want it painted black, no colours any more, I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes, I have to turn my head until my darkness goes…."_

With full throttle and loud music Greg didn't care for anything as he raced through the streets on the highway and the first exit that will take him away from London.


	175. Circles

**24\. Circles**

Greg stared at his phone the message still open:

"I'm getting married – yes again – engagement party is Saturday the 20th. Be there and bring your +1. Annie"

Well….that is opening a new can of worms, he wasn't prepared for. He hasn't told anyone about him and Mycroft, and now they want to meet him. He ran his hands through his hair; this is a predicament he wasn't prepared for.

"Is everything in order?" Mycroft asked as he ate. Greg looked up and smiled nervously.

"Yeah…sure, everything is fine." Mycroft narrowed his eyes at the obvious lie.

"You sure, because you got a text and now you look worried, anxious and nervous." Greg looked down before he looked back at Mycroft, his hand waving as if he was waving it away.

"My sis, riling me up, nothing serious, and you know siblings."

"Indeed." Mycroft replied and let it go, for now. Greg quickly finished his breakfast before standing up.

"Got to you, see you tonight Love." He gave him a brief kiss and ran out. Mycroft waited till the front door closed before he picked up his phone.

"Send me the last message Gregory received this morning." He didn't bother with his initials as Anthea would know it was him. She replied instantly.

"That wise?"

"No, but he was worried and lying about it." He hated doing this but he was concerned, Greg really seemed upset and worried about that text, he understands siblings, but to a point. The beep told him the message in his inbox and he quickly read it.

"Oh dear." Well that explains it. He knew Greg had siblings but he never talked about them, or his family, for the past ten months they have been dating, the only people who knew was Sherlock and John, Anthea and a few other people in their immediate circle. He realised with a shock that beside from knowing about his sisters and that one lives in Newcastle, the other in Wales, he knew nothing about them. Apart from birthdays Greg doesn't speak to them. This text was a ground-breaking, this changes everything. The little nagging voice in his head was telling him that Greg didn't talk about them on purpose, that he wants to keep Mycroft a secret…who was a man….maybe he was ashamed of him….maybe he doesn't want his family to know about them…

Mycroft left for work, in a bad mood and didn't reply to any messages or calls; he didn't want to talk to anybody. He let his phone go to voicemail.

The next day was the same; he was called out with another crisis in the Middle East, nothing life threatening but it was a good excuse to get away for a while.

He sent Greg one text.

" **My presence is requested "**

Greg had the nagging feeling that something was wrong since yesterday, it was stronger when he tried to call Mycroft yesterday but he didn't answer and this text proved it. Not once had Mycroft send him a message like this. He tried calling Mycroft but the phone was off, desperate he tried Anthea.

"What did I do?" He asked straight away.

"I don't understand." Anthea replied with a diplomatic tone.

"You didn't go with him, he is not answering my calls, and he left without saying goodbye."

"He did send you a text."

"Anthea. How am I supposed to fix this if I have no idea what I did wrong, assuming I did do something."

"I cannot discuss private matters to you, but I do believe that once you are in a relationship with someone, it is important to make sure the person is important enough that you would be proud to have that person in your life. Good bye."

"No…wait….what do you mean…?" The line was long dead. He was beyond frustrated when he closed his eyes, trying to figure out where he did wrong. He sighed…the message…he must have found out about it.

"It is a misunderstanding, I can explain, when will he be back GL" He typed.

"Day after tomorrow. A"

When Mycroft entered his home there was a wonderful smell of food and spices in the air. Putting his back down and taking off his coat he made his way to the living room to find Greg fast asleep on his couch. Clearing his throat and that was enough to wake Greg up.

"It must have been a bad day if you're asleep on my couch." Greg looked at Mycroft; he could feel the distance between them that had nothing to with proximity.

"I waited for you. I made dinner, it's in the oven."

"Thank you, however I do not require you or anyone else to feed me, unless you have another reason for being here?"

"You left in such a rush, we didn't have time to talk, and you never called me back." Greg stood up and stretches his muscles.

"Well, my schedule is not depended on you or your desire to talk to me." Mycroft replied and Greg's eyes widen in surprise, he couldn't remember the last time Mycroft sounded so cold towards him. He closed his eyes to keep his anger in check, this is all a misunderstanding, and he should keep a level head.

"I wanted to talk to you; my sister is getting married and invited me…and my plus one."

"They don't even know we're dating do they? I can't help but wonder why you never told me about them or them about us."

Greg gave a dry chuckle.

"We're running in circles, like dogs chasing their tails…"

"Can you please speak sense?" Mycroft replied, he was getting real tired of this.

"I never told you about them because in all honesty I didn't think you would care, you always go on about how stupid people are, and how you are living in world with goldfish and prefer to be alone, you never once showed interest in my family and I was happy with the status quo. I mean I had you, and I considered myself extremely lucky to have someone like you, that I didn't want to change it, not for something that might cause you discomfort." Greg looked at him, his brown eyes focused on Mycroft and he couldn't help but to feel guilty. Greg was right; he never showed an interest in them, and like Greg, he was happy with it just being them. Their little world, but it can't work like that, this misunderstanding proved it. If they have any hope of continuing this relationship they need to talk more. He walked over to Greg and took his hands.

"Gregory I'm so sorry, I should've asked you about them, you are so intertwined in my life and family that I never even considered about yours, please forgive me."

Greg smiled sadly and kissed Mycroft's hand.

"It's okay, were both at fault. Does that mean you would come with me?"

"I suppose I should go and keep an eye on you…I don't think I can send you alone to an engagement party, I have a feeling you Lestrade's need supervision." Greg burst out laughing and pulled Mycroft into a tight hug. Mycroft wrapped his hands around Greg.

"Yeah…you're probably right."

 _Don't talk to me as if I'm crazy_  
It's not the way it's meant to be  
Please just talk to me as if I'm equal  
Fear of rejection's hanging on

We go in circles  
Repeating old mistakes  
When will we learn  
How to cry to forgive

_(Take me out of myself – Erasure – World be gone - 2017)_


	176. Malapropism

**25\. Malapropism**

" **I'm bored. GL"**

"And what am I supposed to do about it. MH"

" **Keep me busy. GL"**

"You're not a five. MH"

" **Thank goodness, with my thoughts and the stuff we do, it would be delightfully sinful. ;) GL"**

"Gregory…MH"

" **Hmm…hey what is an eleven letter word to describe misusing of words? GL"**

"Gregisbored. MH"

" **Doesn't fit…needs to end on an 'm'. Good one though. Very accurate. GL"**

"Shouldn't you be in a meeting?"

" **I am…I'm just not paying attention…to broke. : ) GL"**

"Hilarious. MH"

" **Nope. That's 9 letters. GL"**

"Is this relevant to the case or meeting? MH"

" **Of course not. This is me being bored and trying to fill in a crossword. GL"**

"You have a crossword with you while in a meeting? MH"

" **No. The guy next to me…if I get it before him, I'll look smart and the perfect example of multitasking, focusing on a meeting and just knowing word. GL** "

"And texting me. MH"

" **I have no idea what you're talking about. GL"**

"Malapropism. MH"

" **Mala…what….don't worry ill google it…nice. Thanks. GL"**

" **Googled it…its cool…I'm going to try and use it today. GL"**

"Please don't. MH."

" **Sorry. GL"**

"I will just have to find a way to distract you. MH"

" **Lead the way maestro and I will precede….GL"**

" **See what I did there? GL"**

"I stepped right into that one didn't I"? MH"

" **Yup. Got to go, have to look smart. See you tonight. GL"**


	177. Winter is here

**26\. Winter is here**

The first draft took Greg by surprise, he was working late and took a smoke break, as he turned down the alley way, the draft filtered through his shirt and landed on his skin in a display of goose bumps.

"Bloody hell!" He exclaimed loudly and huddled closer to the wall. The light from his lighter struggled to stay alive in the wind but he managed, almost sad that he had to put it out as it provided some warmth.

He looked around and saw for the first time that the air was changing, the city was preparing for winter. People were wearing coats, jumpers and some even had scarves around their necks.

"When did I miss this?" He mumbled to himself.

"When you were distracted by the case." The answer came from behind him and Greg turned around to see Mycroft standing there, looking all calm and relaxed. His suit was warm and much better quality than the shirt he was wearing, although long sleeved, it was still too thin for this weather.

"Hi Love." He greeted Mycroft and saw that instead of his umbrella he was holding a jacket.

"I brought you this, thought it might help you to stay a little warmer." Greg smiled and dropped his cigarette bud in the waste bin.

"Yeah thanks. I didn't realise winter is here already."

"Technically were still in autumn." Mycroft responded drily. Greg pulled up his sleeve. The goose bumps still visible.

"Tell that to my poor cold skin." Mycroft rolled his eyes; Greg clearly got some dramatic streak just like them. He reached out and covered Greg's hands with his. He softly rubbed it. He wouldn't try to do more, not in public and Greg loved the idea that Mycroft would even go as far to do this for him. The shared a soft smile. Mycroft sighed and let go.

"I need to get back."

"Thanks for this, I appreciate it, see you later?"

Mycroft nodded and stepped back the car waiting behind him.

"I'll pick you up at eight."

Greg went back into the building feeling warmer, with Mycroft by his side he might come to love winter, especially them snuggling and sharing touches when no one is watching.


	178. Hushed

**27\. Hushed**

Greg walked through the building and could feel the eyes on him, as he stepped into the elevator to go to his floor he saw the receptionist glancing his way before grabbing her phone and texting. He pretended to be oblivious until the door closes the he shook his head and started laughing.

It is scary how fast a rumour can spread. Not even a day yet…he looked at his watch. 11 hours. Mycroft proposed to him last night at dinner, it is 8 now… wow...if only they could solve crimes so fast…

The elevator door opened and he stepped out, the whole floor was speaking in hushed tones.

"Good morning." He said loudly enough that everyone could hear. They all scrambled to their desk and greeted back with a 'good morning sir' or 'morning' some openly stared at him and more importantly his hand. A bright shiny ring was wrapped snugly around his finger. He pretended not to notice as he made his way to the office wondering who could've spread the news. Once inside his office he sighed.

Of course.

Sherlock.

"Good morning Sherlock, John." He greeted as he stepped around his desk to his side. He took off his coat and watched as both of them stared at his hand.

"Something interesting?" He finally asked as he sat down, trying his best to have a poker face. Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Oh don't pretend to be innocent with me, I can read you like a book."

"So what are you reading now…?" Greg asked as he folded his hands. The golden band shimmering in the fluorescent light.

"Eg, he went through with it." Sherlock sighed dramatically. Greg smiled.

"Yeah…."

"Try not to look so happy."

"Can't. I am very happy. Did you tell everyone out there?" He asked as he looked towards the door where whispering could be heart. John sat down.

"He may have said something as he walked in."

"Let me guess, some deduction mixed with an insult and loud enough for everyone to hear?"

"Spot on." Greg smiled even more and stood up. He walked towards the door and held out his hand.

"Yes! I said yes, and this is the part where you all congratulate me, buy me cake and gush over my ring!" He yelled so that everyone could hear, in the office John laughed and Sherlock slammed his head on the table. So dramatic. Greg couldn't care less he was being stormed by his co-workers.


	179. White carpet

28\. White carpet

  
  


Greg walked into the room and stopped…his face was straight then slowly a smile broke out on his face. Mycroft followed behind him.

"Everything in order?"

"Yeah the room is great, guess what we have?" Greg turned to Mycroft and helped him to put their suitcases closer to the wardrobe.

"A good room, with an ensuite bathroom, mini kitchen and a small living room, private and hours for the weekend." He looked up, a frown on his face. "Why?"

"No, the room and everything is great, but did you see what we have over there near the fireplace?" Mycroft looked at Greg then looked towards the fireplace.

"A normal fireplace, two seats…wood…pokers….what am I looking for?" Greg stepped closer to Mycroft the wicked smile still on his face.

"The lovely shag pile on the floor."

"The white carpet?"

"The shag pile of fake sheepskin fur…perfect for you knows…wonderful activities in front of the fire place." Mycroft gasped and blushed, his eyes still focused on the carpet while a blush spread across his cheek.

"You mean…"

"Yeah…I mean…" Greg grinned and pulled Mycroft closer to him, who finally turned away from the carpet to look at Greg, a grin on his face as well.

  
  


 


	180. Space ship

**29 Spaceship**

When Mycroft came home he found both his brother and friend in his house. Sherlock was at the table with sheets of paper on the table and his husband and John was in the living room, with the twins building something. There was boxes, juice bottle lids and foil everywhere.

"What are you doing?" He asked to no one in particular. The twin turned around and ran to him; Mycroft grouched down and opened his arms.

"Were building a spaceship!" They yelled together. Mycroft frowned and looked toward the three grownup men, all with similar smiles.

"Gregory?" Greg stood up from behind the big box in the middle of the room.

"Hey Love."

"Spaceship?"

Greg nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, they watch Doctor who…by accident….and um…they want a spaceship…so I called John to help, Sherlock overheard and insisted on drawing up the plan."

"Uncle Sherlock draw an awesome ship Dad!" He looked down to the two faces, smiling brightly and cheeks red.

"He did?"

They nodded.

"Yup, and we're all going to fly away!"

"I can't wait. Need any help?"

"Hmmm yeah, you can help Da with the innerterior…the seats…must be comfy for all of us."

Mycroft smiled and gave the twins a salute.

"Dad reporting for duty."

They spent the next hour building and sticking things together, covering everything in foil and stars. It was just before dinner time and Greg insisted they eat inside. That was some sight four grown men and two small kids, sitting in a homemade spaceship in London mansion, eating dinner.


	181. Haircut

  **30\. Haircut**

Mycroft eyed the man in front of him with disdain, yet tried everything in his power not to let it show. The man for all intent and purposes was innocent and just doing his job. Right now his job was to cut hair – Greg's hair.

For some reason Gregory had decided to get his haircut, why he wouldn't know, to him, and considering he is a genius, there is nothing wrong with that silver streaks framing that face and eyes…no it was perfect, streaky and would stand in every direction and oh so soft for his hands to run through and massage. But no….Gregory decided it was getting too long and needed a trim.

So here they were, at the barber, some local shop near the Yard, because Gregory insisted on supporting the local businesses and he just went with, after all the man has been cutting greg's hair for a few years now.

He watched as Greg shook the man's hand as if they have been friends for years, which is true.

"The usual Guv?"

"Yes please Frank."

Greg sat in the chair while Mycroft watched.

"The usual is just a slight trim right?" Mycroft asked as his eyes were glued to the scissor in his hand so close to Greg's hair.

"Yes, I usually just clean the sides and cut the top."

"About a centimetre maximum right, I mean that's the general assumption on a trim right?" Greg chuckled as he looked at Mycroft, shaking his head in fondness.

"Yes, just a little."

"Because there's nothing wrong with his hair like this, you can focus on cleaning the neck and sides, if you have to, but the top is quite fine like that." He tried again, trying for diplomatic. Greg was chuckling softly.

"Yes sir." Frank just agreed and then started cutting Greg's hair under the most intense supervision he ever had. And Yes, Mycroft did made sure he didn't went over the one centimetre mark.

On the other hand, Mycroft was very impressed with the final result that he left a tip, a very big tip.


	182. But you said

**1 But you said**

Mycroft tried to keep his sigh and groan as obscure as possible. He couldn't help it; the 'Middle East Situation 2' was so boring that at this stage he hopes Sherlock would cause some distraction – no wait – he takes it back. The meeting is okay. He just has to push through these nice thick files on his desk.

Right then the door opened and Anthea rushed in.

"Car is waiting, there was a shootout, Sherlock and Dr. Watson was involved."

"And Gregory?" Mycroft asked, on instant alert.

"There was shots fire, one got hit, and it's the Detective. No serious injuries though." He didn't need to be told twice he was so fast out of his office on his way to the waiting car.

Once in the car Mycroft took a breath and looked at Anthea.

"What are his injuries exactly?"

"Nothing serious, the latest update state he just receive a slight graze. Sherlock doesn't know about you and the Detective does he?"

"No, it has been a very well-kept secret."

"Until today."

Mycroft nodded.

"Until today."

They shared a look, today is the day that his relationship is going to become knowledge and it is going to be in a hospital ward.

Greg looked up and sighed. Mycroft was quite a sight as he walked down the hallway straight to him, Anthea following close behind, great, his day is about to go from bad to worse.

Mycroft eyes took in the ripped shirt, the blood stains on one side, Greg's left arm was in a sling and he looked tired and in pain. He knew his ice mask was slipping as he reached out and took Greg's right hand in his.

"I came as soon as soon as I received the report about the shoot-out, I must confess I was quite worried."

Greg smiled at him.

"I'm fine, the bullet just grazed my arm, tore some muscle but no need for surgery, Sally is still in surgery, but Sherlock and John is fine…I'm sorry My…I failed in keeping them safe."

Before Mycroft could answer they heard a loud voice.

"Oh do be less of an idiot than normal Lestrade, you didn't know it was an ambush." They looked up to see Sherlock walking towards them his eyes on his phone Mycroft dropped Greg's hand just in time as Sherlock looked up. He narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing here? The report must have said I was fine."

"It did, but as I explained to the Detective here, and I just want to make sure everyone is fine."

"No no no…." Sherlock started.

"You…but you said… _Gregory_ …you have never called Graham Gregory before…." He trailed of as his mouth fell open and his eyes widen in realization.

"No…." He pulled a face as if he just ate beetroot and chocolate sauce or something. Mycroft sighed.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, it's been about six months now…you're slipping brother mine…I told you once…old age…it comes to us all…now if you'll excuse us, me and Gregory, would like to get a update on Sergeant Donovan."

Without waiting for an answer Mycroft helped Greg up from the bed and they started walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. Anthea looked at Sherlock and he stared at her and she smiled and winked before following her boss.


	183. The light changed

**2\. The light changed**

Sometimes things just have a way of coming to light. I mean take this moment, I was hard at work, the Alps was on my table in paperwork, my coffee mug is in a serious need of a refill and my cigarettes is finished

The only thing I want to do was go home

But no...

No...

I had to get into a car to see Mr dramatic but oh so sexy and any moment he will see right through me and then it would be tickets with old me.

But let's get back to the problem at hand.

I arrived at the office Mycroft was looking impeccably well put together and I felt left out.

He offered me coffee which I gladly accepted, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, but hey I'll take my luxury where I can.

The meeting went well and suddenly the lights went out.

"Stay calm Gregory..."

"Wh..." my mouth went dry. Did he just call me by my name? My full name?

By the time I got my bearings in my head in line the backup lights came on.

Mycroft looked different in the light. It wasn't the fluorescent light so it wasn't as harsh as normal. It was soft normal light and now that the light changed to this softer light, Mycroft looked different.

"You okay?" I decided to ask once it looked like Mycroft is over the shock of calling me by my name, it was clear that it wasn't supposed to happen.

"I'm fine, my apologies for the interruption."

"Its fine I take it wasn't supposed to happen?"

"No. Unfortunately not."

"Nor you call me by name?" The reaction was instantaneous and I knew I was blessed with a very rare opportunity and I should use it.

"I...it sl..."

"If I ask you on a date, would you say yes, or should we just pretend never happened?"

Mycroft stared at me with an expression of surprise. He was thinking it over and I knew one push and he would agree.

"However I think we have enough on the list of stuff to pretend never happened? And I'm hungry."

"If I say yes, does this mean that we have to go eat now?"

I shrugged, very open to the idea.

"Okay."

I smiled and let my happiness show clearly, and was happy to find he was starting to smile back.


	184. Tick tock

3\. Tick tock tick tock

Tick tock…

      The pendulum swings

           Time is passing…

Tick tock…

       Round and round

               A child is screaming...

Tick tock…

          The clock runs out

               Someone is laughing...

Tick tock...

        The hourglass runs dry

                There is a gun pointed to my head...

Tick tock

       The pendulum swung

                Someone is going to die brother mine...

It's me...

        No more time, no mercy this time

              No flowers... no heart...

It fills everything, the water rises, it floods everything, the well fills up up up...

Too much water…drowning…can't stay up…

Screaming, so loud nobody hears…nobody cares…

He is still alive…trapped in a glass coffin, the water splashes against the sides, the droplets taunting him as it rises higher and higher. He looks up. Sherlock, John and Greg are watching him, they are bantering around the coffin, a triangle of voices and no one hears him scream. No one saw he was awake. No one saw his fingers clawing the smooth surface.

He screams….the water flooding into his mouth, rippling through his throat into his lungs. He fights as the voice yells over the rushing.

"Ooooh, your time has run out…Mycroft….."

"You should've played with me…."

"Noooooooo!" He yelled on last time and his eyes shot open as he gasp the night air into his lungs. His body is shaking but it wasn't cold.

"Mycroft." The steadfast yet scared voice of Greg filled his ears and he opened his eyes. Greg, his Greg was holding his hand, his brown eyes wide and open as they look at him.

"Gre…." He tried but not a sound came out.

"Shhh….it's okay…I'm here…it was just a nightmare…."

Mycroft clawed his way into the warm embrace, the strong arms engulfing him like a warm blanket of safety.

"You…me…water…coffin…" He tried but couldn't.

"Shh…relax, you're safe…you're safe…" Greg repeated until Mycroft's heart rates slowed down, and his breath evened out. After a long time they fall asleep again, Mycroft was safe in Greg's arms…his eyes were closed.

"Mycroft….let's play again…."


	185. Terracotta tile

5\. Terracotta tile

Mycroft stood in the corner watching the men work; he had a vague suspicion that this change is just the beginning of several changes in his life. And the link to connect it all together was Gregory; no one else has managed to make such a radical change in his life that Greg was able in a small amount of time.

The fact is, he never really spent so much time in his kitchen, so the interior never really bothered him, unlike Greg who was quite appalled by the look of it. "You paid to make it look like this…did you lose a bet?" Mycroft didn't thought it was funnily when he said it, now that he was looking back and thinking about it, he smiled. The new design was much better, much more homely.

"We have to My, it is where the food is kept." He shook his head lightly, as if the food will care how the decorations look. Although he must admit, the new terracotta tile design with wood panels is given it a whole new atmosphere, a warm one, one that would fit a home, not a house.

The first change that Greg insisted on when he moved in was the kitchen, it had to change, and Mycroft gave him free reign, now that it was coming together he could see the appeal. He can already see himself in here, preparing food with Greg by his side, both working together as they cut up vegetables, sit at the table and have breakfast, the toast crumbs falling onto the new wooden counter, the tiles behind the wall giving the perfect background as they move together.

"So, what do you think?" Mycroft turned to see Greg standing next to him, his arms folded and a smile on my face.

"I think it looks wonderful."

"Me or the kitchen."

"Both."


	186. White board

**6\. White board**

Mycroft and Greg watched the emotions across Sherlock's face, they had decided to convert the small wall between the living room door and kitchen into a board he could use for his 'Work', on half was white board, the other black chalk and with a cover he could pull down to cover the work, in case there's people or something. The cover was made out of a material, where he can pin photos and stuff together. So in final, he has three different places to write, draw, pin and do whatever he likes, in the hopes that he leaves Mrs Hudson wall alone…aside from the smiley face and bullet holes.

Sherlock stared.

He finally narrowed his eyes and turn to then as if they were hiding something.

"It's mine."

"It is installed in Baker Street." Mycroft replied dryly. Greg rolled his eyes and elbowed him slightly before turning to Sherlock.

"Yes, all yours, it is for your birthday, you have a white board, black board and felt board, or whatever it is called. You have pens, chalk and pins to get you going, you just have to say thank you and that's it."

"That's it?"

"Yes! You pillock, it is a birthday present from me and Mycroft to you." Sherlock looked at them both before turning back to the board, he opened and closed the living room door and then stood in all corners of the room to see if he could eye they board. He loved it, Mycroft could see it, Greg could see it, and they all knew it. Sherlock finally looked back at them.

"Thank you."


	187. Traditional

**7\. Traditional**

I should probably congratulate myself on being able to keep my face neutral, even though I feel like jumping through the roof. I can't believe I haven't thought of this sooner, but as they would say rather late than never. Mycroft my life, my heart was convinced he needed to lose weight, weight he has hidden somewhere besides on his body, cause I looked, and I didn't find extra weight. So I had this master plan of cooking dinner and made a traditional Yorkshire pudding, Mycroft loves that, especially with the gravy.

However…

I read up on it…and that is how I discovered that Yorkshire pudding can be quite versatile, although traditionally it is eaten with the main meal and gravy, if there is leftover, it is perfect with jam or ice-cream…amazing.

So dinner is set and look at that, seems I accidently made a little extra…it can't go to waste…we will have no choice but to eat it as desert.

Oops.

"Gregory, you really out did yourself with dinner tonight, it is marvellous."

I smiled broadly, if only he knew…

"Thanks Love. Oh I should warn you, I accidently made some extra pudding cups, you know it can't go to waste, so I thought we can have some as desert?" I put on my most innocent smile. He wasn't fooled, that blue eyes zeroed in on me, but I will stand strong.

"You did?"

I shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe with some of that strawberries and ice-cream?" Keep smiling, he is faltering, he will cave any moment.

"I noticed there were some fresh cherries as well, maybe we can mix that with the strawberries?"

Yes! Victory.

"That would be great. I will put the dishes away in the dishwasher and you can take out the fruit?"

"Certainly. It would be the perfect way to end a wonderful night."

Sometimes I really think I have genius potential…


	188. Sunshine

**8\. Sunshine**

When Greg called Anthea 'Sunshine' for the first time, there was a silence that was loaded with anticipation. He called her that on impulse as he walked by her on his way out of Mycroft's office. Mycroft stared at Greg's retreating back before looking at Anthea, she had a killer gaze locked on him and then suddenly she broke out in a wide smile. She giggled softly to herself, not realising Mycroft was watching her and Greg long gone.

Mycroft gave a mental sigh of relief, he did not expect that response, for a moment there he thought he might lose the man who wholeheartedly stole his heart in such a way, he will never get it back.

That became Greg's special name for her, whenever it was just the three of them or them alone he would call her 'Sunshine' and she would smile briefly, her eyes would soften and she would go on with her job. In turn he became 'Detective' with a smile that was reserved only for him. Mycroft didn't know that the word detective could be said in such a way that it sounded like a pet name, but he had no other way to describe it as that.

Anthea and Greg found a connection; a link that made them allies when it came to Mycroft, there was an understanding between them that didn't always needed words or explanations.

Greg would get little surprises at crime scenes when Sunshine would get out of the car, with a tray of muffins and warm coffee when the day was starting to early or running to late into the evening. He appreciated it, so did his team, and they all knew it wasn't always Mycroft's order but they kept it to themselves.

It was a very cold winter morning, the body nearly frozen on the concrete and Greg was hoping to get back to the office. His phone buzzed. He struggled to open the message with his frozen fingers, stiff and unwilling to cooperate.

" **Bad case my dear? MH"**

" _Yeah, I would prefer to spend my early mornings in our warm bed instead of this frozen place. GL"_

" **Didn't the coffee Anthea sent help at all? Thought some heat would make the morning more bearable. MH"**

Greg frowned as he looked around, an unsettling feeling on his stomach.

" _Love what coffee? When? GL"_

He knew he was probably scaring Mycroft right now, but he couldn't help it. They reply came quick.

" **About an hour ago, you are near Blackfriars's bridge right? MH."**

Greg ran his hand through his hands and looked around, the traffic was just starting to pick up, the newspapers vans, and delivery trucks no Sunshine however. He runs towards Sally.

"Donovan?" He exclaimed as he grabbed her shoulders.

"Wait…what…sir...?" She asked confused, a few officers looking at them.

"Did you see Mycroft's black car anywhere this morning? Did you see Anthea in the last hour?"

"No. There was no car, no Anthea, no one, just us Boss….what's going on?" Greg ignored her and dialled quickly, his fingers clutching the phone as adrenalin kicked in. The phone was answered on the first ring.

"Hey, no one has seen her, she never arrived….no….yeah…I looked around…nothing…asked Sally…she hasn't…yeah…okay…I'll be there in ten…" Sally was watching him as he talked and realised something happened, something serious. She waited till he hang up and turned to her, he was about to leave, leaving her in charge.

She was right. Anthea was missing.

"Okay, tell everyone to stay away from black cars that show up, until I cleared it, you are in charge here."

"Don't worry, I have everything under control here, go and keep me updated okay?" Greg gave her a brief nod and rushed to his car, already dialling.

"Sherlock? Meet me now at Mycroft's office. Anthea is missing."


	189. Fall

9\. Fall

The nurse at the reception desk was glancing at the two men sitting on the bed, waiting for the doctor. Both tried to hide their embarrassment but whenever they would glance at each other, they would blush furiously. You don't need to be a brain surgeon to know, that the emergency is related to the bedroom.

The grey haired man, had a slight cut on his forehead, which would require a few stitches, he is clutching his side, so a few bruised ribs and the taller dark hair man, had a guilty expression on his face. Yeah, those two clearly had some adventure, but instead of ecstatic happiness, they have a trip to the ER.

Well, that's how it goes sometimes.

The nurse noticed that the next file would be theirs, and she can go get things ready for the doctor to put in the stitches.

"Detective Lestrade?"

"That's me." The grey haired man answered with a small wince.

"Good evening, I'm nurse Kasey the doctor is one his way."

"Thank you." He replied and watched as the nurse got all the materials ready, she pulled a gown from the cabinet.

"Can you please put this over your clothes?"

The auburn man got up and helped his partner, both trying to look at each other. The nurse felt like rolling her eyes.

"According to your file, you had a little fall?" She asked as passive as she could. The men blushed again one tried to clear his throat. The detective answered.

"Yeah, I slipped in the tub."

If she didn't know any better she would've bet they agreed on that, luckily she did knew better and knew it was the story they agreed on and would stick to it. Well, she might as well play along.

"You should maybe consider getting one of those slip resistant rugs you place in the tub, this could've been much worse."


	190. Red plaid shirt

**4\. Red plaid shirt**

Sherlock was the first to notice and stare...and stare some more. John tried to get his attention until he saw what Sherlock saw and stared as well.  
They both were in amazement as Greg and Mycroft walked up the pavement into the restaurant.  
Mummy had decided that they must have a brunch with her boys and partners, and only Mycroft and Greg were the last to arrive. They watched as they entered the place and made their way over to their table. Greg was wearing his blue jeans with a dark blue shirt with black pearl buttons. Mycroft was wearing navy blue jeans with a red plaid shirt, the bottom of the shirt becoming darker; it was one of that ombre or degraded shirts.  
He and Greg held hands as they made their way over to them, by now all four people at the table was staring.  
"Apologies for being late, good morning Mummy, Father." Mycroft greeted. Greg followed and greeted Mycroft's parents before greeting Sherlock and John. Mummy was openly admiring the look on Mycroft.  
"It's all right Mikey, we we're just about to order some tea." Mycroft pretended he didn't notice and sat down.  
"Great. That would be lovely."  
The brunch went well and the atmosphere stayed comfortable, Greg was worried that Sherlock would make a comment to Mycroft but surprisingly he stayed quiet.

By the time they left Mycroft made sure that his parents had a car available.  
"Aren't you joining us?"  
"Unfortunately not, Gregory and I still have a few things to do; we'll see you all tonight."  
To everyone's surprise he took Greg's hand and together they started walking down the street, hand in hand and laughter following them .mummy look at Sherlock. Sherlock look at her and together they gave a small smile. Greg is next to a miracle maker when it comes to her son, both of them really.


	191. Itunes

**10\. ITunes**

The flight was going to be long, so both of them had to prepare for it. Greg was looking at Mycroft's bag with some trepidation the night before.

"You're talking all those books on the plane?" Mycroft frowned at Greg's expression as he too looked at the bag, there were six thick books in there, not only is it taking up much space, and it is also quite heavy.

"Yes, I've always wanted to read these and the perfect time would be on the plane."

"But it is so heavy and thick."

"We are traveling first class Gregory; there is no limit on my luggage."

"No…I know that…but why not just get it on your iTunes, along with thousands of other books, music and even movies then you just have to carry your laptop?"

Mycroft looked back at the bag and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"But I like having the paper in my hands." Greg smiled and shook his head as he sat down next to him.

"I know me too, but in this case it would be better, besides if you finish the book you don't have to worry about carrying it the whole time, plus it won't get damaged or lost."

"Make sense."

"Tell you what, let's make a whole playlist, we get our favourite music, some movies and shows we've been trying to catch up on, and the books, all in one place?"

"That would be acceptable."

"Also, we can then use your book space to buy touristy stuff and ornaments we don't need to put on the shelves to gather dust…"


	192. I got this

**11\. I got this**

Greg got the call while he was still at work, Sherlock called him and said that he must go to Mycroft's office immediately. Greg didn't need to be told twice, he heard everything in Sherlock's voice, there was something wrong with Mycroft.

He arrived at the office in less than twenty minutes and made his way to the familiar office. John and Sherlock were waiting for him, Anthea was standing in the corner and he could see she was trying to do damage control.

"Sherlock?" Sherlock turned to him and that's when Greg saw him, Mycroft was sitting in on one of the reclining chairs next to the window, staring ahead. His top button was undone, and sleeves rolled up.

"What's going on?" John stepped into his line of sight.

"There was an attempt made on Mycroft's life he is shaking up, and is in the beginning stages of shock, I tried to give him tea or something but he is unresponsive. Anthea is convinced you would be able to reach him, get him to respond." Greg couldn't believe what he was hearing but taking a deep breath he made his way over to Mycroft. Sherlock was following close behind and Greg knew, he was worried about his brother. He may not know the specifics of the attempt, but he knew it was serious as Sherlock and John were here, and they expected him to get through to Mycroft.

Mycroft was still staring ahead; he didn't even flinch when Greg grouched down in front of him.

"Greg…" John tried but Greg waved him off.

"I got this." He slowly reached out his hands to Mycroft's folded hands on his lap.

"Don't touch him, it will startle him." John tried, which is true, most people with training in self-defence and with this line of work, will easily feel threatened and attack, but Greg knew better. He ignored them and slowly wrapped his hands around Mycroft's.

"Love? Can you please come out wherever you area and talk to me?" If you didn't paid attention, you would've missed it, but the moment Greg's hands touched Mycroft's skin, his shoulders lost the tight tension. He slowly blinked and when he opened his eyes he was looking at Greg.

He gave a small nod and then opened his hands to intertwine their fingers. His looked up to Greg through his lashes and softly whispered.

"I'll always come to you."


	193. Scene after scene

12\. Scene after scene

Mycroft saw the way Greg turned around and smiled at him, the way his mouth turned upwards into that cheeky smile and that crinkle of his crow's feet around his eyes, that trust and unconditional love reflected in those eyes. Mycroft smiled back and then Greg smile faltered and his face turned to confusing and Mycroft realised so did his. In fact his face fell first and Greg saw that. Mycroft's attention was on something behind Greg, opposite the street and he dropped his take-away coffee.  
The paper coffee rolled three times before it fell on the pavement, the force impacting the round opening to a half moon with sharp edges. The black liquid spattered around it, with a small puddle underneath it and all over the ground and against his trouser. Greg eyes widen and he stepped towards Mycroft that saved his life as Mycroft grabbed his shirt and forced them to the ground.

Even now that moment is replying in his mind a scene after scene as everything changed. The explosion came from the building opposite the street; it rocked the ground and shattered his car's windows. It took a moment for the initial shock to subside and for them to stand up. Mycroft turned to look, it was a hole in the wall that exploded and it was causing havoc. Greg without thinking ran towards the people injured.  
Mycroft wanted to yell at him to stay back, there's no way of knowing if it is the only explosion, but before he could say anything or yell anything Greg was already helping the nearby victims, he was had removed his jacket to cover the body closest to the blast.  
People rushed to help and Mycroft was calling it in, arranging ambulances someone to look at cameras and take control of the situation.

It was only late that evening when they were both in bed that Mycroft had his breaking point. He held Greg as if his life depended on it, whispering in his ear that he loves him that Greg was his everything and even though he loves how brave he is to run to help, he should always be careful.


	194. Dear Anna

**13\. Dear Anna**

The woman opened the envelope with her nail, her old hands still strong as the paper ripped open. She stood in the middle of the kitchen her glasses perched on her small nose, her brown eyes still sharp.  
The letter was written on very expensive paper she could feel the thickness of it through her fingers. It was hand written in a beautiful swirling black letters.  
The words captivated her immediately.

_Dear Anna  
You don't know me, but I am your son in law, even though you don't accept the law for allowing me to marry. Nor your son._

_I married your son on a beautiful sunny day; the sunlight caught his grey hair and turned it into lighting streaks across his head. His brown eyes shone like amber caught in a sun ray. I tried to keep my emotions in check because for the first time in my life I was truly loved._

_With tears in our eyes we declared our love, both knowing that it took us a long time to get there, and a lot of heartbreak in our past to realise what a pivotal moment that day was...  
But not as memorable five days ago. Five days ago, we had another pivotal moment. One we dreamed off, but never thought would become a reality._

_Five days ago you became a grandmother of two wonderful babies. A boy and a girl, you should've seen your son, crying for the overwhelming joy and happiness that we both felt, the pride in being a dad, he can't stop talking about how he is going to teach them football, how we will take them in picnics, teach them how to ride a bike and how to bake choc-chip cookies on a Sunday morning just like his mom taught him. That's the only moment he would get sad and I can see the regret in his eyes that the two of you didn't had the relationship you once had. And I am a man with great power and influence and have no idea how to get that look out of his eyes when he thinks of you. The pain and heartache that you're abandonment caused._  
However, I am trying this, he doesn't know that I wrote to you, and depending on your decisions from now on, he may or may never find out.  
If you decide to discard this letter, that would be it.  
If you decide to reconcile with your son, regardless of orientation you can call me at the number provided, although I must warn you, any negative or vulgar language will not be tolerated. If your love for your son is stronger than your conviction over orientation you might gain a family, two sons and two grandchildren, if not, this will be the last time I will ever contact you or give you a chance.  
Good day  
Mycroft Holmes-Lestrade

Anna had somehow found herself on the kitchen chair, tears running down her face. It took her an hour to compose herself enough to pick up the phone without dropping it through her sobs.  
The phone rang twice before it was answered


	195. He clenched his fist

**14\. He clenched his fist**

Taylor Ironside, the name enough was capable of sounding like a smooth cinema Adonis with the perfect body and the perfect hair and the perfect teeth and the perfect...bloody hell everything all right! Greg clenched his fist as he stared at the man, the latest addition to Mycroft's security team, fresh out 00M-headquarters or wherever they are produced, or cloned or sculpted or whatever.

The fact was he hated the guy, with his smooth looks, straight face, eyebrows that's probably kept in line with sheer determination and skin smoother than silk.  
Greg hated him instantly, his eyebrows doesn't look like they are even aware of determination, his skin always have that rough five o'clock shadow even if Mycroft shaved it less than two seconds ago, he wasn't formed and sculpted in any secret spy headquarters and his teeth is white but that is because he takes mouth hygiene very seriously.

He won't even start on how Mr perfect is looking in his tux, whereas Greg's suit is tailor-made but he still feels as if he got it at the clearance sale at Asda.  
Oh hell and now he is flirting with Mycroft, his Mycroft, not that he has ownership on him, because that would just sound wrong and obsessive and stalkerish and as a cop know it never ends well, but they are in relationship, a happy one if anyone cares to notice, very happy thank you very much.

They were attending a gala and Taylor had to be there as Anthea couldn't make it, and Greg really wanted his ass kicking ninja next to Mycroft instead of this man.  
He talks to Greg about sport and tried to be friendly but Greg found it difficult to be friendly when the man in question is flirting with his partner.  
Greg's eyes widen, did he just touch his partner's elbow? Oh he definitely did, twice now...tonight is the night Greg is going to show these posh audience how a good old brawl is supposed to be. He eyed that mirror against the wall and thinks both of them would look good if he tackles him right here on the polished floor.  
Greg was so in his little fantasy beating up Taylor that he didn't see Mycroft walking to him or blocking his view bending a little so he was in Greg's space.  
"After you finally killed Mr Ironside in your current fantasy do you think we can go home?"  
"I wasn't killing him." Greg replied after Mycroft startled him. Mycroft raise his eyebrows  
"You didn't?"  
"No I tackled him on this polished floor and it looked awesome in that mirror over there."  
Mycroft looked towards the mirror and Greg saw his pupils dilate. He was turned on; Greg looked momentarily confused before Mycroft turned to him.  
"We need to get home. Now."

"Did my jealous fantasy just turned you on?" Greg asked with surprise  
Mycroft leaned closer to Greg's space his breath in his neck.  
"If we don't go home right now I'm having you in this bathroom and will make sure that wherever Mr Ironside is will now that we're together, this whole room will now." Greg gulped down as he tried to keep himself from grabbing Mycroft and running like Usain Bolt to the nearest cubicle.  
"Yeah...Let's. ...um...go..." standing up straight they both started walking to the exit Taylor quickly following them.  
Mycroft held out his hand.  
"Don't worry about us, you may stay longer Gregory and I have some important and personal matters to discuss in the car." It took all of Greg's willpower not to smile brightly or stuck out his tongue at the man.


	196. A priest walks into

**15\. A priest walks into...**

The collar was tight against Greg's neck; he hated it, even ties and bow ties. Greg likes to move his neck around without any obstruction so this was something he needs to just push through.  
It was a dress up party that he had to attend at the Yard. Most of his colleagues were practising their Halloween costumes but he knows Halloween was so far off that they will change their minds again. He definitely will.  
He looked around the pub trying to find Mycroft; Mycroft didn't accompany him to the party but did agree to meet him at the pub closest to the location of the party. Greg didn't mind, it gave him the necessary excuse to leave early.  
He found Mycroft in the corner of the pub; reading a newspaper and a half empty glass in front of him.  
Mycroft looked up at Greg and smiled folding the paper as Greg made his way over to him.  
The strange thing was that everyone was eyeing him; especially the women and they would give him this seductive smile. Greg frowned, he is not supposed to get this much attention with this costume. He looked like a proper priest. The white collar everything.  
"They found your profession challenging, especially the celibate part..." Mycroft said as Greg sat down, he clearly saw the confusion on Greg's face with the looks and thought he should clear it up for him, the best was, and even he was giving Greg looks and would smile at him.  
"Yeah well if they only knew..."  
"Indeed." Mycroft replied and took Greg's hand.  
"You left even earlier than I expected."  
"It was boring and you weren't there so I left."  
"Shall we go home? "  
"Oh yes can't wait to take this off, it's scratching my neck."  
Mycroft smiled and stood up.  
"You do realise you're practically a living example of that 'a priest walks into...a bar jokes,"  
"Yeah well as long as I don't walk out as one."  
Mycroft reached out and removed the white collar with a flick.  
"Yes...that wouldn't do at all."


	197. Surprise

**16\. Surprise**

Mycroft and Greg sat opposite each other a black and white board in front of them, white and black pawns scattered on the board in various strategic places. They decided that since there was nothing in telly worth watching they would play some chess. Each had a glass of cognac, both on their third glass.  
Now would also be a good time to mention that Greg was losing, horribly but he didn't care. Mycroft tried to be as kind as possible and low key but Greg could see he was enjoying himself.  
Both were.  
To be honest they talked more than played, both relishing the fact that they don't always get a chance to just spend the time without any interruptions or things to bother them.  
"Okay...pawn...shame so useless couldn't even give the fellows a better name..."  
"Gregory..."  
"Yeah right anyway pawn goes there...and...viola..."  
"Voila...? You do realise he is open for me to take?"  
"It's all part of my master plan." Greg replied with a smile and Mycroft shook his head and took the pawn.  
"That was hardly a sacrifice you know?"  
"Maybe that's what I want you to think"  
"Is that right?"  
So they continued to play into the night. Mycroft was winning more and more.  
In the end Mycroft had the king cornered.  
"Looks like your king is surrounded."  
Greg gave a broad smile and lifted up a two toothpicks with a candy wrapper around each to look like flags.  
"Oh this was the plan all along, you see just before we started playing all my knights and pawns revolted and brought down the monarchy and institutionalised a new democracy and free country so by all means take the puppet master who was the last obstacle in this tyranny of world dominance. Surprise! Viva la revolution"  
Mycroft sat back and stared as Greg waved his two little candy wrapper flags...one purple one green. He absolutely had no idea how to respond in the end he took one flag and waved it with Greg.  
"Viva la revolution." He stated and the burst out laughing with Greg.


	198. May I

**17\. May I**  
  
Greg was at Baker Street handing Sherlock with the latest case file. Sherlock would glance at Greg's hand before taking the file. When he met Greg all those years ago he was wearing a ring, the wife cheated, the marriage fall apart, the ring disappeared and for several years only a white tan line was evident of that time Greg spend so long to get over. Then Mycroft happened.  
The smile came back, the confidence came back and several months later the ring came back. A new one, bit bigger, a bit heavier and Sherlock knew without a doubt just like Mycroft knows and Greg that that ring will never leave his finger.  
"It's hardly a six."  
"Oh it is more; I can see it in your eyes." Greg replied and took his phone out of his pocket as it rang.  
"Hey Love...yeah...at Baker Street now...sure...okay...oh hey...I was thinking. ...if you're free tonight...I'd like to ask you out on a date...yeah. Great...pick you up at 7." Sherlock rolled his eyes, nearly married for a year and Greg still treats Mycroft as if they just started dating.

Greg was ready on the dot at seven, so was Mycroft as they dressed up in the same house and room.  
Greg waited at his car as Mycroft locked up and walked towards him. Greg smiled.  
"Hey Love you look fantastic."  
"Thank you my dearest, you look wonderful yourself."  
"May I?" Greg asked as he opened the car door.  
"Thank you."

Dinner was great; they went to a small and intimate restaurant with great food and wonderful wine.

Once home and were safely tucked in bed, each holding the other that Mycroft kissed Greg's hand.  
"Don't get me wrong, I love the way you keep flirting with me and asking me out on dates, but you do realise we are married right?"  
Greg chuckled softly as he leaned towards Mycroft his hand cradling his cheek.  
"Yeah course I do, but just because we are married doesn't mean I have to stop chasing you and doing the things I did to have you on my life."


	199. Noodles

**18\. Noodles**

Mycroft opened the door and knew instantly something was wrong. With a soft sigh he knew his absence was a day too long, and taking into account that he was only gone for two days it is saying something. His dear husband hasn't been looking after himself these past few days. He made his way to the kitchen and saw that the stove or the oven hasn't been working. He opened the refrigerator door, oh yes...there it was...take out...and more take out from Chinese noodles to pizza hut pizzas...everything he should not eat, but do.  
Mycroft shook his head; his husband can be such a stubborn man sometimes.  
He made his way upstairs to their room and stopped in the doorway. Greg was reading a book and fell asleep with his glasses still on his head and the book open on his chest.  
This is what he lives for, fight to get home for, that man in that bed looking all adorable with his glasses and half coffee on the bedside table.  
He wasn't in his pyjamas just the shorts; he loves to sleep in his shorts. Mycroft quickly undressed and took a quick shower before he removed the book and glasses from his husband's face.  
Greg stirred but stayed asleep. His hands however reached towards Mycroft's side of the bed and Mycroft grabbed his hands.  
"My?" Greg mumbled sleepily.  
"I'm home." Mycroft replied as he got into bed snuggling into Greg's side who pulled him closer.  
"I missed you."  
"I missed you too. Sleep well my dearest."  
"Love you Love."  
Mycroft felt safe and finally home as he fell asleep in Greg's arms.


	200. Coffee

**19\. Coffee**

As far as breakups went; this one was one that wasn't letting Greg go.  
It was strange but they hardly dated a year before they broke up why he wouldn't be able to tell you.  
They were fine, the next moment they weren't.  
The whole thing happened less than a month ago and to this day he regret the whole day, he had no idea how to fix this but somehow he should.  
Well that moment came when he was at Baker Street and he left he walked straight into the man himself.  
"My...croft hi" He tried to sound professional but he fall back into his own habit of calling Mycroft his pet name and that took both by surprise.  
"Gre...detective how have you been?"  
"Good yeah..." They look at one another both uncomfortable and remembering the good times.  
"That's good yeah..."  
They stared at one another in a very awkward silence both unsure of how to proceed. Mycroft stared at Greg and that's when he noticed that Greg was wearing his scarf. Not one that he bought for Greg, but Mycroft's, one he forgot at Greg's place. For a moment he thought back to the moment when he arrived at Greg's place and Greg took great joy in removing that scarf kiss for kiss. Mycroft was unaware that he was smiling fondly at the memory until Greg's anger pulled him back.  
"What the hell is so funny?"  
"Gregory you misunderstood..."  
"Yeah...that was the problem not smart enough for you. I need to leave." Mycroft tried to stop him but Greg walked away angry as hell.  
Mycroft sighed and climbed back in the car, he couldn't believe how fast he messed that up.  
There must be a way to make things right, both of them is struggling without the other. In the confines of the car he unbuttoned his collar to feel the material under his shirt one of Greg's undershirts...they both are struggling and both too proud to make things right. Well he just need to be the one to make things right.

By the time Greg came home he was irritated and frustrated, the whole thing with Mycroft had mixed up his whole day and he even spilled his coffee over his shirt, and typically he didn't had a spare on him.  
He closed the front door with a slam and knew something was wrong. He turned to his living room and saw Mycroft stood in the middle of the room.  
"Mycroft? What the hell are doing here?"  
Mycroft didn't say a word; instead he unbuttoned his shirt again until Greg could see his undershirt.  
"Is that mine?"  
"I wear your shirt when I'm having a bad day, you're scent is long gone, but your memory is not. You wear my scarf and I may not know why, but I know that I'm a bit lost without you."  
Greg sighed and walked slowly towards Mycroft his eyes revealing his emotions he stopped in front of Mycroft.  
"I wear your scarf because it's the only thing that makes sense in this messed up world; you're the only thing that makes sense." Mycroft swallowed trying to keep his emotions in check but couldn't and reach out to hold Greg who wrapped his arms around him. They didn't know how long they stood there but it didn't matter, they were finally home.


	201. Grass

**20\. Grass**  
  
Mycroft held the flask tight in his hand, the heat from the flask and tea warming his cold hands.  
The coat was warm and strong perfect to keep the chill wind at bay. The scarf was rounded twice around his neck to offer some more heat.  
Looking around he saw that all the spectators were in a similar place, warmly dressed and rubbing their hands together to warm them.  
All of them except the players on the field. They were dressed in shorts and shirts with socks and football shoes.  
His dear husband was participating in a charity football game for cancer research. Half the Yard and the community are playing against the well...Mycroft didn't know the other team or where they're from.  
And only the players would know in why they decided to play so early in the morning, with a cold front on its way.  
"It's the rush." Greg said when he asked, as if that was a feasible answer. Still he dressed up warmly to support his husband, he already made a hearty donation to the cause without putting on a pair of shorts a shirt and kicked a muddy ball around the field. The dew made the grass wet and in some places a bit muddy and somehow that excited the men more. He heard something saying "awesome, now it's a rough game." As if you need mud to make a game rough.  
Mycroft was pleased to notice that Greg's team was winning and that Greg was a great player.  
They were about to score another goal and the people was cheering them on wildly. Mycroft didn't lift a finger or fist in the air, nor yelled his voice hoarse but his heart and mind was cheering just as loud.  
They scored and Mycroft smiled, Greg yelled with his teammates all happy and exuberant.  
They won and Greg was smiling from ear to ear, Mycroft shook his head as Greg walked over to him, his hair was a mess, his shirt was dirty so was the shorts and that's when he frowned, Greg was walking with a slight cripple he had a huge bruise from the knee upwards to his thigh.  
"Gregory you're hurt." He uttered when Greg was close enough. He looked down and winces.  
"Yeah got a grass burn when I slipped on that muddy grass there in the corner, it's going to burn when I get it cleaned up but hey we won!"  
Mycroft decided that's the moment he will just stop to figure this man out who sounded proud with his grass burn and the fact that they won the game. He should just let it go and help him clean it up, because Greg was right that is going to be a nightmare to clean up. The scrape was big with spots of blood and rubbed off skin. The smile on Greg's face however, that was making the game and the sacrifice worthwhile


	202. Coaster

**21\. Coaster**

When Mycroft got home Greg was sitting with his laptop at the kitchen table, the kitchen counter filled with dirty utensils and the remnants of someone cooking, the smell of wondering food was drifting from the oven. The table was set with a bowl of salad, two plates, two glasses of wine; Greg had pushed his plate to the side so his laptop could fit.

"Good evening Gregory."

Greg looked up from the screen his eyes glancing above the rim of the glasses.

"Hey, how was your day?"

"As expected and yours?" Mycroft asked as he leaned over to kiss him, Greg kissed him back smiling.

"Ssdd."

"Excuse me?"

"Same shit different day. Dinner is almost ready." Mycroft picked up the bottle of wine.

"Shall I pour?"

"Oh yes."

Sitting down Mycroft looked at Greg typing away and clicking."

"My dearest, what are you doing?"

"Well remember I told you about Sims..."

"The computer game?" Mycroft asked perplexed, Greg wouldn't start a PC game about characters would he? Greg chuckled fondly.

"No...no... Simmons my old boss, from when I was in drugs..."

"Narcotics, saying it like that really gives a bad impression. But yes I remember you've mentioned him a couple of weeks ago."

"Narcotics then...Anyway he bought a Coaster and he and Stella is doing a UK road trip, he emailed me some pictures after I showed interested in the Coaster, he named it 'Betty' after Bette Davis...and you should see these pics Love, he did a stunning job, at this point I may buy one and go on a trip with it, if you ask nicely I'll even take you with." Greg finished and Mycroft stared, what on earth was 'Coaster' and why would he name it?

"Gregory?"

"Yeah?"

"What is a coaster?"

"It's a type of minibus..."

Mycroft's eyes widen...

A minibus and Greg want to buy one...oh dear lord no.

Greg seeing his reaction shook his head and passed his laptop over to Mycroft.

"Have a look, I'll check on dinner."

Mycroft looked through the folder filled with pictures and he had to admit it was impressive. The windows were tinted, the bus a sleek and well-designed machine in a milky white colour. The inside was even more beautiful. It looked like a mini RV, the bedroom was in the back, with a divider for space, the sides converted into a row of cabinets with a pull out counter and two benches. The opposite side had a small bathroom/shower, small but convenient. Then finally the two seats in front was sleek black leather with good space and an armrest for the passenger, it had a built-in navigation system and radio.

"I'll admit, it looks..."

"Cozy...and like fun."

"Fun?"

"Imagine me and you in one of that driving down the coastline no worries about hotels...or time...we stop anywhere and everywhere for the night, no one to hear us make love under the stars..."

Mycroft blushed at that, he certainly paint a beautiful picture for them. Before he could reply though, Greg put the dinner on the table and the conversation was forgotten.

It was about seven weeks later when Greg got an email from Mycroft with one attachment. The subject line only said: when?

The picture: A Toyota Coaster, top of the line, blinking in the sun.


	203. Flower patterns

**22\. Flower patterns**

Greg has been trying to get Mycroft's attention for nearly an hour now and so far nothing. Zilch. The best part was that he didn't even know what Mycroft was busy with at his computer. After a longsuffering sigh Mycroft looked at Greg, his eyes narrowing a look of deep concentration on his face.

"Whatever it was it wasn't me." Greg stated and started to flip between the channels.

"Why would you think I think you did something wrong?" Mycroft asked and Greg could see he was standing up and walking over to him. Greg didn't pry his eyes away from the screen when he replied.

"You got that look."

"I have a look?" Mycroft asked all innocently standing in front of Greg looking at him.

"You know you do." Greg knew that it was irritating Mycroft that he wasn't looking at him, he smiled, waiting to see how he would respond to it. Mycroft folded his arms and with one step stood in front of the telly. The problem was, it was a huge flat screen and he was slim build so Greg could still see much of what was showing. He sat more forward, pretending to be very interested in the show.

"Gregoooryyy…"

"Hmmm." Greg tried to keep his face neutral but the mischief was plain to see. Groaning Mycroft moved forward pushed Greg back and straddled him.

"Do you really want to watch the latest show on flower patterns and how it can bring life in a dreary home?" Greg burst out laughing.

"No…not when my home already is lit up by you…"

"Just your home…"

"My life, heart everything…you know it…"

"Never stop telling me that please."

"As you wish."


	204. Lemon wedges

**23\. Lemon wedges**

"Love going to be late. Got to put a few young lads in their place. GL"

Mycroft looked at the message and his first instinct was to worry. He couldn't help it, he always thought the worse straight away, and put people in their place, meant somewhere said something they shouldn't have and Greg is going to teach them a lesson or something. His first reaction is that they said something about Greg dating a man.

By the time the third plan of action crossed Mycroft's mind he was typing on his laptop for deportation papers. He stopped; maybe he should get the whole story that would help him make a decision about how bad the destination should be.

" **May I ask what they did to deserve it, and when you say in place…you're not going to use your fists are you? Remember you are wearing a genuine Saville Row produced shirt…MH."**

Maybe a bit posh and petty but he didn't really care at the moment, there is no need for Greg to get his hands dirty and shirt ruined if one paper can do the trick.

"They said old men like me can't drink them under a table…I challenge them at the pub. They are going down. No one beats an old copper with Uni days like mine…GL"

Drinking….alcohol….Greg is going to prove he can still drink them under a table...

Taking a deep breath he massages his temples. This was clearly not a case for deportation unless he wants to count his dear Gregory in as well, and he can't bear to do that.

" **Which pub. MH." He asked after much consideration, he of course will have to go and look after the man, make sure he gets home safely.**

Gregory was winning. Mycroft watch the younger men around him, one after the other falling under the strain of the alcohol and his dear Gregory was going strong. After several beers, a few shots, he was still the most lucid if he can say it like that. He was drunk, make no mistake, but he haven't passed out, like two already, threw up like three others, Mycroft must admit, he was quite impressed with his dearest over there. Greg was aware that Mycroft was in the corner but allowed Greg to do his things, watching him, with a smile.

"Okay. Last round." He called and saw Mycroft relief.

"Tequila shots." He called and the men groaned, one rushed to the bathroom to throw up, the bartender pour a few shots and took out the salt and a tray of lemon wedges. After the shots, one more passed out, and one more rushed to the bathroom. Greg smirked and made his way over to Mycroft. Quite unsteady on his feet.

"I won." He stated and nearly fell down the small chair.

"Congratulations."

"Well, they old man said can't drink…wrong I proved."

"Yes, my dear you did. Let's get you home."

"You know…I only did you had back of me."

"You only drank so much because you knew I would look after you?"

"Always do."


	205. Telephone cord

**24\. Telephone cord**

Mycroft watch Greg as he talked over the phone, he had this tendency to call people on their landline if he was at home. The reason he only figured out, after several call and he felt like such an idiot that he didn't figure it out sooner. Greg does it so he can pace the floor and play with the telephone cord, the little twisted cord that he would wrap around his finger, his hand and just play with it. He couldn't understand it. Why on earth someone would want to play with the cord.

Then again, he has noticed that where he would talk and stand still, Gregory on the other hand would like to move, if it isn't his feet, it his hands, it is as if he can't talk without some body part moving.

The first time they met, Mycroft felt exhausted, he was so used to people sitting still as statues and would talk without giving anything away. Not Greg, no, his right hand would move through the air as if to guide his words to the person. His eyes and face would be open and Mycroft would be able to see every emotion, the good and bad, he wanted more. He craved more. He still does. He waited till Greg was off the phone when he pulled him close and held him. Greg has learned by now, to stop asking for explanations, to just hold him back. To just allow Mycroft to soak up or find what he was looking for. A few minutes later Mycroft would let go and ask.

"Shall we go have dinner? Or "Shall we retreat for the evening?" Or something like that. This time it was different. Mycroft let go and looked at him.

"My life only became alive when you breathe into it."


	206. Used tissue

25\. Used tissue

The Yard had learned, since Detective Inspector Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes started dating it would take a very hard case to get Greg to work overtime. When it happens that there was no strange or difficult case, Mycroft would be out of town and Greg would try to find solace in the noise of the Yard.

One of the most upsetting things about Mycroft absence was the silence and the feeling of loneliness in Greg's life, in their home and would ate at him. He would have dinner in front of the telly for noise, a tray with his take-away, not even bothering to cook.

He would purposely avoid staying for long periods at home, missing the sounds of his partner too much. The silence would chase him back to the Yard. Home would be for sleep, a shower and a change of clothes. Luckily Mrs. Lamb was there to make sure they would have clean clothes at all times, one luxury that Greg appreciated and took full advantage of.

As if the universe knew this, so of course the day came when she called in sick, she came down with the flu. The agency called in, saying they could send a replacement, but Greg refused, he didn't want anyone in their house and not without Mycroft's thoughts on the matter so he decided he would just do what he always did, and that would be to do it himself. Nothing came of it, until the morning when he opened his wardrobe to his last pair of pants, last pair of socks, the stained home winter ones didn't count. With a sigh he loaded his laundry in the machine and set it to the appropriate settings, when he comes back he can just hang it up, and put a few in the tumble dryer.

"Aaafft." He sighed as he realised that meant he had to be home on time, no working late on purpose.

That night Greg went to get his clothes got a surprise as he opened the washing machine door. Somehow he left a piece of tissue in his trousers and now everything is covered in small white flecks of paper.

"Oh for F…fu..fricken fiddty fuck!" He yelled but there was no one to comment on his language.

"Oh…nothing to be done now…" He mumbled and put the clothes in the dryer, the rest he hang up in their indoor line.

Greg forgot all about the 'used tissue' incident and went on as normal, waiting for Mycroft to get home.

When Mycroft finally came home, he was too busy ripping clothes off to pay attention, until the next morning and Greg had to get ready for work. Mycroft frowned and looked at the clothes.

"Gregory, what happened to your clothes, did Mrs Lamb made a mistake or something?"

"Oh, no…my own stupid mistake when I did the laundry. Forgot a tissue in my pocket."

"You did the laundry? Why?"

"Mrs. Lamb got the flu, and I didn't want a replacement without your go-ahead, nor did I want strangers so I just did it myself, I did it for years you know."

Mycroft gave a deep long suffering sigh.

"You know my dear, I'm so glad you're a good detective, because you sure are not the best housekeeper."

The pillow in his face was worth it.


	207. Leopard print

**26\. Leopard print**

They were at a fashion show, both wanted to be anywhere but there, unfortunately Anthea was needed somewhere else so Mycroft and Greg had to step in. Mycroft complained the whole way over in the car, the ridiculousness of the fact that an informant insisted on meeting in a place like that. Greg thought it was a fun, and a good idea, so many people, the attention on the models and celebrities attending, so they won't focus on them.

So far it all went well, they had a seat on the one corner of the walkway, the music was loud and the constant shutter of a flashes make it look like they were outside in some star explosion show.

Greg tried his utmost best to keep his face neutral from the 'designs' and 'fashion' they were wearing. A man came out, strutting in a real peacock suit, the feathers standing tall around him.

"I don't think that will work for me, the feathers will mess up my crime scene." He subtly joke as he leaned in over to Mycroft.

"Really, because I thought it would bring out your eyes." Mycroft replied with a straight face. Greg burst out laughing.

The next designer got his inspirations from Africa apparently as there were leopard print suits, zebra stripes trousers and jackets. The leopard print suit was outlined with a glitter seam and a pink bright shirt with a gold tie. Greg's eyes widen.

"Please don't let your shock show; you're supposed to be inspired by this, not appalled."

"But….but….My….the….good God….people find this inspirational? No wonder the crime rate is so high…"

"Gregory..."

"Sorry, just saying…"

"Would you prefer leopard print jeans?"

"No…nice blue ones….thank you…jeez cant believe people pay for this cr.."

"Hmmm." Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Controversial….clothes…and unique…"

"You have a horrible poker face."

"Next time I would put some leopard print camouflage on…"


	208. Usb

27\. USB

Mycroft came down the stairway in search for his husband. Greg just finishes a very horrible case and since then hasn't slept a whole night. He knew the man was plague by nightmares, and there is nothing he can do except support him, and listen when he talks.

That however is the problem, Greg doesn't really talk about stuff like that, he usually keeps it to himself, it was a habit he developed since he was with his wife, who never wanted to listen, so he kept it inside, and made him sleep on the couch when the nightmares were getting real bad. Mycroft has tried so hard to make Greg kicked that habit, but so far only little progress was made.

As he suspected Greg was on the sofa, but he wasn't asleep, he was watching a movie. Instead of a boring drama it was a spy drama. Greg was lying on the sofa, one arm on his chest, the other behind his head as he watched.

"Oh as if…" Greg softly mumbled and saw that the spy just jumped over two sky towers without falling or the wind shaking him of course.

Mycroft listened as the hero yelled to one of the footmen asking for something, oh a USB, with information that can apparently cause an earthquake that can break the North America continent in two, and destroy the world. Oh well, America is still standing so he probably succeeded, instead he focused his attention back to Greg.

"Gregory?" Greg shook as he was startled and sits up, his head turned to Mycroft.

"Hey Love, why aren't you sleeping?"

"I can ask you the same."

Greg waved it away and sighed Mycroft moved closer and sat next to him, Greg immediately made himself comfortable in the space where Mycroft lifted his arm.

"This movie is quite stupid you know?" Greg said as he focused back on it.

"Because of the earthquake?"

"No, because let's face it, how stupid do you have to be, to put information like that on a USB, and then lose it?"

"Well, they should have back-ups" Mycroft tried, all of sudden feeling quite small, as he remembered his history with USB and information.

"True, but wouldn't it be smart to break it up, in let's say five or six, and they can only work together, that way, even if one is lost, the information is secure?"

Well, look at that, for once Greg was the smart one, regarding USB's and Mycroft could only smile in return as his hands were holding Greg and couldn't smack himself over the head.


	209. Rough cut

**28\. Rough cut**

The call of the murder came just as Greg was about to finish his late shift for the morning, yes he was on the night shift as the usual detective was sick, and everyone had to help. The man was murdered in a warehouse, a very familiar one. Without thinking he took out his phone and dialled, it was answered on the first ring.

"Gregory."

"Hi, you didn't perhaps had a meeting in your kidnap-Sherlock's-friend warehouse did you and accidently forgot something?"

Greg got straight to the point; this was an unfamiliar team he was overseeing, only Nestoff, a young Constable that joined his team a few weeks back.

"My what?" Mycroft asked, unsure. Greg gritted his teeth.

"The warehouse you use to when you kidnapped me and John and all the lads that Sherlock's came in contact with?"

"No, it is not mine, although I use it the most, why? And what is this did I forget something?"

"I am standing in the warehouse, there is a dead body on the floor, one bullet to the head, tied to a chair, a few cuts and bruises and from what I can see he has an official badge similar to yours in his shirt, only the half is showing."

He could hear Mycroft typing on his laptop.

"Greg, I need you do something for me, go to the man, take a flashlight and see if there is something like glitter on him." Greg frowned but did as he asks as he walked closer to the man, the flashlight in his hand. The others were watching him. Sure enough, as he shined the light, small particulars sparkled.

"There's glitter, what is going on?"

"He was one of us, working on a case in Africa, dealing with blood diamonds. He had rough cut diamonds on him, I bet that is gone, stay there, let no one touch him, this is a message for us, for me. I will be right there." Mycroft didn't even bother to say goodbye as he hang up. Greg sighed loudly and looked to the team, how on earth is he going to tell them, this case is about to be ripped from their hands?


	210. Inner workings

**29\. Inner workings**

Well…

This is awkward. Greg and Mycroft were on their way to a small cottage for the weekend when the car broke down halfway. They were stuck on a small and quiet road. Greg popped up the hood and had a look Mycroft folded his arms and got out.

"Gregory do you actually know anything about the cars?"

"I'll have you know, that I can change a tyre, check the oil and water and a few other things, bikes I know a lot more off…"

"Yes I know." Mycroft mumbled. He opened the door and get out.

"Gregory, I know that, but do you actually know anything about the inner workings of a car and its engine?" Greg looked towards the engine where there was a swirl of smoke. He frowned and finally sighed and looked at Mycroft.

"Uuhm no."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone as he looked down he noticed that he hardly had any signal.

"Whats wrong?"

"No signal, or very bad."

Greg shut the bonnet of the car and jumped up the car, and made his way to the roof.

"Here, it's better up here, I'll call." Mycroft stared at Greg who grinned back from the roof of the car.

"You're feeling like quite rock star now…"

"Oh yeah baby, the wind is nice up here…" Greg joked back and laughed at Mycroft's expression. Five minutes later he jumped down.

"They will be here in about twenty minutes."

"Great shall we wait in the car?"

"Yeah, let's do that." Greg replied and got back in the car with Mycroft following.

That night they finally made it to their little home for the weekend both just finished with a very long bath and a bottle of wine when Mycroft sat back against the headboard and indicated Greg was sat against him. Mycroft folded his arms around Greg, his head on his shoulder, his voice soft in his ear.

"Now, I'm about to tell you some of the inner workings of my mind, of my Mind Palace, you have always been interested, so tonight I will show you how it looked, and how you changed it into what it looks now…now close your eyes and imagine…"


	211. Striped curtains

**30\. Striped curtain**

Greg made way for the men walking past him, each carrying two or three boxes. He followed them inside the new building where Mycroft was staring out the window while they were placing boxes all around the desk, which was brand new with a phone already attached and working.

"Settling in nicely Love?" Greg asked as he joined Mycroft at the window.

"As soon as all these boxes are unpacked." Mycroft responded drily and turned to Greg.

"Shall we have lunch Gregory?"

"Yeah, I'm quite starving." They made their way to one side of the room where two comfortable seats were, they were originally destined for the desk, but right now, they were in the way. Mycroft pulled the small trolley towards them and opened the lids to their food.

"This is quite a move, now two of your three offices have windows, you should be careful, soon all of them will have natural light." Greg joked as he looked around. The cabinets were still empty, the books in boxes, the desk still free from pens and paperwork.

"Oh, don't worry about that."

"So tell me, are you going to make this one homely?"

"Homely? Excuse me?"

"You know curtains…maybe we should ask your mom for some doilies…"

"Gregory, you are not as amusing as you think you are."

"Oh, I am…hey I know we should get you striped curtains, it would match your suits and bring out your eyes."

"That's it, I disowning you."

"Oh, my bleeding heart…" Greg exclaimed his hand on his heart, while his other hand picked up the last delicate savoury snack on the silver tray.

They smiled and joked all the afternoon as the movers moved Mycroft stuff into his new office. Greg never once made a comment that it is ten minutes closer to the Yard, or that if you look closely you can see the building from a certain window corner in the office.


	212. Heavy

 

**31\. Heavy.**

Greg could see it, Mycroft was having a bad day, a very bad week in fact. That night he arranged with Anthea that Mycroft had the weekend off, while he cleared his weekend as well. That morning he woke Mycroft up at around five in the morning.

"Come on Love."

"Gregory where are we going?"

"Don't know yet, however this is where you trust me." That calmed him down and when Mycroft was fully awake he was sitting in Greg's car, Greg was holding two a cd and a coin in his hand.

"I must admit Gregory, you have managed to confuse me, not the first time, but this time it is quite something new."

"Sometimes the best therapy for a heavy heart or mind, is a very long drive and very loud music, now since you have never done it before, I will accompany you, so first off, you toss the coin and decide on a direction, then you decide on the music and we will not talk, we will put the music as loud as we can and then we will drive, we will only stop if one; we need the bathroom two; get sleepy and stretch our legs. So here, toss the coin." Mycroft stared at Greg and then he reaches out with his long fingers and took the coin. He tossed the coin in the car and caught it on his palm, with his hand covering the result he turned to Greg.

"Beethoven….and….the highway south."


	213. Jolly

**1 Jolly**

The house was quiet, too quiet for a normal day. Greg should be in the kitchen making coffee and trying to stock up on enough food to last the day, but Mycroft couldn't hear anything. There was no cutlery being used, the coffee maker was still, it was a bit disconcerting. It reminded Mycroft of the days before Greg moved in, before they had a relationship, when he was alone. He hated it now…

On top of that it was that day….

His birthday.

He should keep his phone with him, his parents would definitely call during the day to wish him a happy birthday, and wish him a 'jolly new year' until his next birthday, which would be another 'have a jolly good year son.' He didn't mind, it is just, that he never felt the need for anything jolly until Greg came along.

Greg asked him nicely to take the day off, and he couldn't refuse so they both had the day off. Greg wasn't in their bed, and the kitchen was quiet. He wrapped his gown around him and made for the stairs.

"Gregory?"

Silence.

He made his way to the kitchen and noticed it was empty, although breakfast had been made, he could smell the coffee and the warm croissants in the oven. There was no Gregory.

He slowly made his way to the living room and that's when he froze.

Greg was on their fluffy carpet, naked but wearing his police hat and had a blanket over him, covering the most parts.

Greg winked and started to sing.

"Ha…ppy birthday….to…you…happy birthday….to you….happy birthday…Mr…Government…happy birthday…to you…"

Mycroft decided right there and then that he is planning on having a very jolly good morning and year…


	214. New groups

**2\. New groups**

" _How bored are you on a scale from 1 to 10? GL."_

Greg sat back in his chair, his door open and his focus on the two new groups of rookies doing the rounds. This is the new recruits, the fresh out of the Academy and need to be shown the ropes in the building. Greg smiled.

Suckers…

A few are still high on the 'Die Hard' and 'Bad boys' and all the other cop movies, expecting chases and glamour and chases…ha…the paperwork…no one ever tells them about the paperwork.

"Why? SH"

"You don't have a case. SH"

"I would know. SH"

"Are you trying to waste my time? SH"

Greg sighed dramatically; someone really should tell the man about all these new apps to chat, Whatsapp, Wechat, and what else. The texting can get a bit annoying.

" _No case, but we have new groups of rookies, fresh from the Academy and I'm feeling a bit…adventurous and wondered if you want to meet them? Give them a taste of the real word. GL"_

"I would say 'vindictive' not adventurous. SH"

"You're definitely spending too much time with my brother. SH"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes. SH"

Greg smiled broadly and typed back.

" _I'm thinking it both you and your brother's influence…GL"_


	215. Mirror mirror

**3\. Mirror mirror**

Greg was called out to a conference in Manchester and Mycroft hated every minute of it. That meant and empty house, a silent telly, a silent radio, an empty oven and no home cooked dinner, not to mention the empty bed and the very cold empty bed.

He prolonged his time to go home until he no longer could. As he opened the door he sighed. All the lights were off, it was dark…yippee… He made his way to the kitchen when the first surprise hit him, the table was set with candles and two plates, his and Greg's which contained a photo of them. A post it note was on his plate.

' _I'm just a lonely little plate_

_With dinner at eight,_

_You should reheat the casserole_

_Before I'm forced to call Interpol_

_Open the fridge and take me out_

_I'll be back soon so don't pout.'_

Mycroft smiled as he read the note and sure enough, there was a casserole in a small foil container in the fridge ready to be heated up. Greg cooked extra and placed it in containers and stocked the fridge for him. Setting the oven he put the casserole in, it won't be ready at eight, but close enough.

Dinner was delicious as always and Mycroft made his way upstairs, feeling a lot better and more positive, he wondered if Greg made more notes for him.

The bedroom so far looked empty and he made his way to take a shower. There was no note on the bathroom…that is until the steam revealed it.

' _Mirror mirror on the wall_

_The sun has set, we welcome the nightfall_

_Although I can't be with you there_

_I wish I could with my all my heart I swear_

_Pretty soon I'll be back in your arm_

_And will keep you safe form harm.'_

Mycroft stared with his heart filled with love until all the steam has gone, and the message disappeared, then he opened the faucets to steam it up again.

When he finally made it to his bed, he was feeling good and not so sad with the idea of sleeping alone for the night.

As he opened the blanket, there was a note on the pillow.

_I love you in ways that words can't say_

_And trust me when I say I hate to be away_

_I may not be a poet of note_

_But I hope this will keep you afloat._

_Hi Love, hope I made you smile, I'm almost home._

_Love you very much. Greg. XOXO_


	216. Open drawer

4 Open drawer

It was a quiet afternoon, both Greg and Mycroft was home, in the living room, just enjoying the day. Mycroft was on one side of the sofa, Greg the other, their legs were interlaced and a small blanket was thrown over them.  
Mycroft was on his laptop, working and Greg was reading a book.

Every now and then Mycroft would look up to Greg and smile, the man was so engrossed in the book that he would pull his face, smile or frown with every paragraph he read. He was wearing glasses and Mycroft helped him choose the frame, a nice solid matte cinnamon colour, it looked spectacular with his eyes and skin, not to mention the grey.

Greg smiled widely and Mycroft could see he was mentally rolling his eyes.

"What's so funny?" His voice was soft but sounded loud in the silence of the room. Greg turned to him.

"This book."

Mycroft tilted his head to read the title, his eyes widen in surprise. The front page had some long hair Adonis on the front page, half his shirt open, with a sword crossing the entire page.

"Are you reading a Mills & Boon book?"

"Sally dared me to read it."

"Oh. I thought they were romance novels not comedy."

"It's the description the writer uses in this particular scene. And they are, exceptionally romantic, to the point of corny, cheesy and cliché…still world famous and great entertainment."

"Read it to me." Greg looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"The description or a part of it."

Greg cleared his throat.

" _Fernando stood as if a Davidesque statue in the courtyard, his hair blowing and dancing in the wind as if the Gods were running their hands through the thick blonde curls, his sword was strong and steady in his hand, the silver weapon a reflection of the strength and masculinity of his manhood. Francesca stood in the tower watching him with hardly concealed lust, her young..."_

"Oh God stop…" Mycroft called out. Greg ignored him and read on.

"… _bosom vibrating with her fast and pulsating heartbeat, the open drawer on the desk was forgotten, who could concentrate on medieval studies_ ….hey that was getting good!" Greg cried out as Mycroft grabbed the book out of his hands.

"That was…"

"I know…I'm vibrating with my pulsing heart too." Greg joked and pulled Mycroft towards him, who having left the laptop on the table for grabbing the book, settled against Greg side.

"Please don't read anything like that to me ever again."

"Promise." Greg replied with a smirk, a plan already forming.

The next day Mycroft was at his office when he received an email. He clicked open and there was a photo of Greg in his office, holding a pen as if a sword. There was a small paragraph.

" _The dishy young and handsome detective may not have a silver sword, but his silver hair would dance in the air when the pale and nimble fingers of his partner would caress it and whisper in his ear. His partner was an Adonis in his own right, a profile that would Caesar's coin to debate in beauty and strength…"_

Mycroft rolled his eyes at the latest antics. There was a small note at the bottom.

_I won't read, but you never said I couldn't write…."_


	217. Wallet

**5\. Wallet**

Greg recognised that look on Sherlock's face, he gets every time he is about to 'borrow' something he shouldn't. Greg calls it stealing but Sherlock calls it borrowing.

He tried to keep a close eye on the young man before him, but it was hard, especially with overseeing a whole team and the crime scene.

"Okay…this would be enough for you to do your job to some extent, we're off…Jooohn!" Without sparing them a second glance he left with John just waving apologetically in his direction before trailing behind Sherlock to the cab already waiting.

Greg walked over to the car where all the evidence were kept and looked around.

"Anderson…"

"Yeah."

"Did he take something, anything?"

Anderson got up and walked closer to look at all the bags.

"No, he didn't touch a thing."

Greg frowned, and then what did he ta… His hands immediately went to his inner pocket to feel for his warrant card. It was there. He continued and then he stopped… his wallet was gone.

"Bastard."

"What's that?" Anderson asked but Greg waved it away.

"Nothing, just thinking out loud. Carry on."

That night he came home to a very amused Mycroft waiting for him, where the one would get one his nerves, the other one would calm them, especially when he looked like that. As if he knows a secret.

"Hi Love."

"Good evening Gregory. How was your day?"

"The usual, your brother stole my wallet, I'll get it back tomorrow."

"Allow me." Mycroft replied and then to Greg's surprise Mycroft handed him, his wallet.

"How?"

Mycroft just took his hand and lead him to the kitchen were dinner were waiting. As they sit, Mycroft started talking.

"I had the most interesting conversation with my dear brother. He thinks you are sleeping with Dr Hooper."

Greg spit out his wine and stared at him

"Excuse me?"

"He saw her the other day, and deduced she was seeing someone, but is going to great lengths to hide it, Sally on more than one occasion has tried to get you to go out on a blind date and you refused…"

"I still don't understand."

"He found a condom in your wallet…I did tell you to keep them somewhere else my dearest."

They looked at each other, both smirks on their faces and then burst out laughing

"Yeah well, I'm not keeping it in my sock like some teenage boy."

"We can think of something."

Greg nodded and turned serious.

"Do you want to tell him...about us?"

"Not right now…soon…I think, but for now I quite like having you for myself."

"Don't worry you will. I'm not going anywhere."


	218. Second date

6\. Second date

It was their second year anniversary and both decided to pretend to be tourist and do the normal tourist things in London. They were so busy keeping London safe that they hardly ever took the time to just enjoy it.

Tonight was the London Eye, both excited as the climbed on board, their hands grasped and the atmosphere light and wonderful. It was late afternoon; the sky was going all out with shades of orange and purple, the last of the golden rays covering the streets in a dust of gold. They were both staring at it, the whole way. It was truly beautiful. .

When the cart came to a stop on top Mycroft looked at Greg.

"I am so glad and happy that I have you in my life, and that I can enjoy these things with you."

Greg returned the smile and kissed Mycroft's palm.

"Me too. You have saved me so many times, opening my eyes to a whole new world."

"As did you." They glanced back out the window; Mycroft leaned forward to look a bit closer to them.

"When did you know?"

Greg stepped closer too and turned to Mycroft.

"Knew what?"

"That you love me?" He asked softly, afraid that it would somehow break the atmosphere.

"Our second date."

"What? That's quick." Greg laughed.

"Oh, Love, I have known you for a few years already by then, the first date was amazing, and it was memorable, but on the second date I knew this wasn't just comfortable, or a way for us to pass the time, it was time, it was the most important way to treasure time, as I got to spend it with you." Mycroft just stared at him.

"When did you know?"

"The first time you smiled."


	219. Tv

7\. Tv

They lived for days like this, a relaxing afternoon both of them enjoying the quality time together, Greg with his crosswords, Mycroft reading a book, a tray of ice tea and two glasses and two small plastic glasses, with some new animation design…the patio…perfect. The silence wonderful.

"Mine!"

Did someone say silence…

Greg looked up the same time Mycroft did.

"It's mine!"

As one the fathers turned to one another, both sighing.

"You played with it all afternoon"

"I didn't!"

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

They put their respective books down and Greg moved to get up.

"Thought they were supposed to be playing, that sounds like a war, unless they are playing war." Mycroft smiled softly.

"War of Roses perhaps."

"Hmm, instead of control over England, it is over the ball."

"They are playing football, is there really a difference."

"Oi you. Football is a great sport, and both of them enjoy it at school."

"It is not intensive training? I mean they are only three years old."

"No love, just kids playing with the ball, the basics."

"Good."

Chuckling Greg walked over the grass where the two were playing and fighting over the ball.

"Okay, break it up you two…Amberley…over there….Mark that side…"

"Will you play with us Da?" Amberley asked with a perfected puppy look.

"Yeah, practise kicking to one another and I'll go take my shoes off okay?"

More excited they nodded and Greg turned back.

"I understand now when everyone was like enjoying the silence while you can, before the kids."

Mycroft helped Greg with his shoes as he rolled up his jeans.

"I wonder how other parents are doing."

"The same, they just watch a lot more tv than us, especially after the second child."

"Pardon?" Mycroft asked questionably.

"It's a joke; it meant that after the second child, couples witch tv instead of having sex to avoid a third child. It is not real, just a joke."

Mycroft seemed perplexed with this idea and turned to Greg.

"We've never watched a lot of tv, even if biology isn't helping us." Greg burst out laughing and smiled as he kissed Mycroft briefly.

"Even if biology was on our side, we still wouldn't watch tv."

Mycroft could only agree as Greg ran to the twins and started playing with them, running around the grass kicking the ball. if anatomy was in their favour, he would make sure they have more kids…maybe he should have a talk with Gregory…..


	220. Mercenary

8\. Mercenary

The victim was found just outside the city, on the west side, near hundreds of warehouses and homeless people. It was isolated, with no one seeing anything. There weren't even tracks on the road.

The body was so close to the water that Greg instantly knew he was dropped off by a boat. That is the only explanation he had. The man was beaten to death, yet no blood was found at the scene. He was dumped.

His face was so scared and ruined, that they couldn't positively identify him and had to rely on either DNA or dental records, whatever could give the answer first.

Greg had a strange feeling in his stomach; his gut told him there was something he is not seeing, something he should be aware off. He tried to talk to Mycroft about it, but it was difficult to explain to him, that he had a 'funny' and 'strange' feeling. Mycroft wanted facts, he wanted logic and rationality, and Greg couldn't give it.

Sally knocked on his door a day later, late afternoon, and she looked worried. Scared even.

"Sal?" Greg asked as he sat more upright.

"We have a name."

"Oookay…"

"His name is Adam Aldrige." Greg could feel the blood drain from his face, he knew him.

"Adam?"

"Yeah, here's the file, and there's more…"

"What?"

"We found this in his stomach, Molly cleaned it up…" Sally handed him the small plastic bag with a paper in it, as he took it he realised it was a newspaper clipping, it was folded neatly and was placed in his stomach, in a small plastic bag so that the blood didn't ruin it. Greg looked at the picture, it was very old. His face was in the picture, his and Adam's. Adam had a big cross over his face, and there was a question mark next to Greg's. He was still a Sergeant when the photo were taken, still had all his brown hair, with no greys insight. Greg swallowed and looked back at Sally.

"Thank you." She nodded and left his office. Greg instantly picked up the file and his jacket and left the office, calling Mycroft as he walked out.

"Hey, can you go over to Baker Street…now…"

The atmosphere was quiet, Sherlock and John sat in their usual chair, Mycroft was standing near the fireplace and Greg sat on the green sofa. The file was open on the small table. Mycroft was on his phone while Sherlock stared at Greg.

"Let me get this straight, you and a fellow officer Adam, went undercover a few years ago as a gay couple to find a killer who went out to assault, attack and kill young gay couples?"

"Yes. It was in the 90's."

"You found the killer?"

"Yes, it was a man by the name of Stephen Barnes."

"You sure of that?"

"Yes, Sherlock he tried to kill Adam and me, and he confessed afterwards."

"That's where the clipping comes from?" John asked for the first time. Greg nodded.

"Yeah, we broke the case and got out faces in the paper."

"And now Adam is dead."

"Yes." Greg answered, his face turned sad as he remembered Adam, they were quite close back then.

"And this picture was in his stomach." John clarified.

"I'm next…or something…I need your help…please…" Mycroft stepped closer and looked at the picture, Greg wanted to explain or say something but he didn't know what to say.

"Stephen Barnes is still in jail, but he has been visited by a regular man, Anthea is trying to identify him."

Greg just nodded and looked down, his hands in his hair. His past wasn't supposed to make such a comeback. Mycroft moved over to him and sat down next to him, his hand reaching for Greg's who clutch back.

"You did the right thing in coming here, he won't harm you."

Greg tried to smile but it came out a grimace. Mycroft's phone buzzed and he looked down. He read the message and his face said it all.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked standing up.

"His name is Marsh Lloyd, he is a mercenary…"


	221. A joke

9\. A joke

Mycroft came home to Greg scribbling away on notes; he would write a bit, scramble the peace of paper and throw it in the small bin before he would start again. Repeating the process.

"Good evening Gregory, what on earth are you doing?" Greg looked at Mycroft over the rim of his glasses.

"Hey, I need to present a presentation, and I have no idea what to do, say or even where to start."

"What is the presentation about?"

"Office culture." Mycroft snorted, yeah, he knows about that, and from that expression on Greg's face, he would rather not do it, in fact he looks like he want to miss the entire class himself.

"Okay…"

"Yeah…."

"Well I heard that you should start with a joke…or anecdote..."

"My…I only know lame jokes…which would actually fit perfectly in this instance…" Greg replied and smiled at that.

"Arent all jokes lame…"

"No." Greg replied, pretending to be shocked.

"You get, the 2am jokes, the drunken jokes…the lame one…the inappropriate ones…the puns…that is the best of them all."

Mycroft looked at Greg as if he never heard this information in his life.

"Sometimes I really wonder how we ever ended up together."

"Oh, magic, definitely Babes…"

"Did you just call me Babes?"

"Yeah, I was practicing my joke skills…hey here's one…why did the bicycle fall down?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned around.

"I'll be in the kitchen, making dinner if you are looking for me."

Greg jumped up and followed him.

"It was because it was two tyred…."


	222. Cat

10 cat

The door slammed with a loud thud, effectively locking Greg inside. He was angry and furious and irritated and very glad Mycroft wasn't home, as the slamming would be a sure way to start and argument, and right now, Greg would be all for it.

He made his way upstairs with loud steps unbuttoning his shirt as he went up, dumping all of his dirty laundry in the basket and got into the shower. The rush of the water washing away everything that had happened during the last few days. He was tired, and exhausted and angry.

As the water flowed over him, he was reminded of the case that led him to here to be so angry, and it ruined his breakfast, and Mycroft's, when the call came in.

'An old lady was found dead in her house, not for from the inner city of London; the pathologist said she was poisoned, but she was alone for weeks before she died….'

Greg washed his body, lathering the soap as the events replayed.

After nearly a week of going nowhere he called in Sherlock…that was when the problem started….

"Rough day my dear?" Greg nearly slipped and fell in the shower as he turned to see Mycroft watching him; he was so in thought that he never noticed Mycroft coming in. He quickly rinses the soap off and got out of the shower, into the towel Mycroft was holding for him.

"Hmmm sorry I didn't know you were home."

"I wasn't, I just got here…I had a little detour to Baker Street." That set Greg off again, he pulled the towel and turned around and dried himself talking over his shoulder.

"Great, so you know about my humiliation too…" Once dry he throw the towel down and walked to his wardrobe. Mycroft sighed and picked up the dirty towel, hanging it on the railing. Mycroft made his way to the bedroom, watching his dear husband getting dressed.

"I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner outside, we could go to that small pub close by, sit outside in the beer garden and you could maybe relax with a beer." Greg looked up at him and sighed.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we can get some of that greasy stuff you like…just you and me and forget about today."

"I want pizza…"

"Absolutely." Mycroft replied already planning an extra mile on his treadmill.

"No extra running, we can walk there." Greg replied, already knowing what Mycroft planned.

It took one and a half of pizza and two pints to get Greg relaxed enough to talk about it.

"You know it is unbelievable, it took him fifteen minutes…fifteen bloody minutes…and an ego filled 'oh, this is a not even a four Lestrade…this is wasting my time…" Greg mimicked and took another sip.

"You know how he can be Gregory, sometime he just say this to get you angry, unfortunately it is one of the things he enjoy."

"Did he tell you who did it? The murder?"

Mycroft nodded.

"He did the whole strange story."

Greg snorted he still get angry just thinking about it.

"A cat…the cat killed her…little 'whiskers' pranced in the neighbour's flowerbed and then scratch his lovely owner, poisoning her, both died…bloody hell, I can already see the new blog post: the case of the killer cat…" Mycroft would admit, that is a very strange case, he just wished he knew how he could provide his husband with some comfort.

"Let's go home, tomorrow is Saturday and we have the day off, let's forget about this and enjoy the weekend."

"Yeah...okay…" Greg replied and took Mycroft's hand as they walked back home.

As they walked home, Mycroft looked at Greg.

"I got us tickets for tomorrow evening, thought we could go watch a play, we have been talking about it for a few weeks now."

"Yeah? That's great, it would be nice, what are we going to see?"

Mycroft looked momentarily uncomfortable before he looked at his husband.

"Cats."


	223. Coca cola

11\. Coca cola

The first cramp hit him just as the plane left the airport, the second cramp outside the city. His instincts were on high alert, his paranoia in full gear. He has been poisoned…

After some reflection he realised, no he just ate something wrong. Anthea had a steak and onion Prego roll, he opted for a seafood salad…and everyone knows how temperamental seafood can be if not properly prepared.

Then again, it could be the turbulence from the plane…or just his system adjusting to the time difference… whatever it was, it was the reason for his so far, two trips to the toilet, to get rid of his stomach contents. It really was disconcerting, he couldn't focus, he was sweating and his stomach was really upside down.

The best part about it so far was that he was in a private plane. The pilot was secluded and Anthea was getting some rest, he wasn't so lucky.

He opened a bottle of water, knowing the importance of staying hydrated but couldn't stomach it. Putting the bottle down he looked at his phone wishing he could hear from Gregory.

Ping…

As if the universe heard him, a text message came in.

" _Hi Love, are you on your way back? I'm planning something special for dinner. GL"_

Oh God, just the idea of food was making him nauseous all over again. He typed back, trying to keep his breath even.

" **I am indeed on my way back, however I don't think dinner would be my first choice once at home my dearest. MH."**

It was only after he hit send that he realised that it might be interpreted wrong. It was.

" _Wow…straight to desert then….;) GL"_

Oh how he wanted too.

" **Sorry to disappoint you Gregory, but I'm experience an upset stomach at the moment, think I ate something that didn't agree with me, I've been sick the whole flight. MH"**

Instead of a new message his phone started ringing.

"Gregory."

"Hi, Did you…."

"Yes, a couple times so far, the plane isn't helping with settling my stomach."

"Oh, I'm sorry Love, listen do you have a coke on the plane?"

"A coke?"

"Yeah, you know that Coca-Cola drink…"

"I know what it is, I have never drunk that, and I never will, do you know how much sugar is in one can? 8.75 teaspoons."

"Yeah, I didn't know that but what I do know is that you don't have any other medicine with you on the plane, not for upset stomach."

"How did…"

"Cause I know you, anyway, get a coke pour it in a glass, stir it to get most of the gas out and then take little sips…I promise you, you feel better soon, and won't even know about the sugar."

"I'll try."

"All I ask. See you tonight."

"See you tonight."

Mycroft got up and went to the little fridge and sure enough found a can of Coke, he did as Gregory told him and could feel a difference within fifteen minutes. His stomach settled, still a bit queasy but the most unpleasantness was gone.

" **Your Coca-Cola worked…how did you know? MH"**

" _Tricks of the trade…it is a treasure among our cops, after I spilled my lunch a few times at a crime scene, I learned how to avoid it. GL_


	224. Medical school

12\. Medical school

Greg had seen Sherlock in a variety of moods, from puking his lungs out while high to the most manipulative bastard that pretended to like pink fairies to get someone to talk to him. This however it the first time he has seen the man jealous, not the friendly, I wish I had your shirt jealous, no it was the take one more step closer to John and I will rip your heart out through your nose and feed it back to you

They were at a crime scene and the crime scene happened to be at Bart's and one of John's old buddies were there. Mike went on a week's leave so he replaced him. Sherlock gave him one look and decided if he wasn't the killer, he will find evidence to make him the killer, and Greg could see he would have no choice but to follow the young man.

To be honest, the man is not only married, he was shamelessly flirting with both John and even Greg had a remark thrown in his way. Greg stayed close to intervene if needed, it was not every day that Sherlock want to attack a witness, and usually they want to attack Sherlock.

"Oh John you were always the funny one, even back in medical school, oh I the fun times we had…." Both Greg and Sherlock looked like they wanted to vomit, when the man said that, clapped John over the shoulder held his head back and laughed as if he just heard the best joke ever. Sherlock stepped closer but Greg cleared his throat. Sherlock turned to him and smiled at the clear revulsion on Greg's face as well. He took a breath and made his face neutral before stepping closer.

"Well I think we have all we needed, thank you Alex. I'm sure John and Sherlock need to go, they are quite busy, shall I escort you out?" John looked like he wanted to say something before Sherlock grabbed his arm.

"Lestrade's right, come on John, the lunch reservation won't wait…" John frowned, they clearly had no lunch plans that he knew off, but allowed Sherlock to pull him along.

"Bye Alex…" He tried but couldn't as Sherlock with his long legs were already halfway out the door and Greg and Alex on their way out the other way…

Greg knew he was probably a bit rude but he had to get the man out before he would have more charges and paperwork before the end of the day.

"So…John and Sherlock…" Alex started, but Greg cut him off.

"Anniversary lunch…two years now…such a beautiful couple don't you think?" Greg didn't care if he was lying, but he will make sure this Alex doesn't interfere or causes problems.

"Oh…"

"Yeah, were waiting for the happy announcement any day…"


	225. Exercise bike

13\. Exercise bike

Greg eyed Mycroft out of the corned of his eye; Mycroft was doing his usual run on the treadmill with Greg keeping him company. Greg had an idea, but he had no idea how he was supposed to present it to Mycroft.

Mycroft finished his last lap and jumped off making his way to Greg who held out a small towel for him.

"Gregory, you have been staring at me the whole time, usually it is with love and admiration, however today it looked like you had something on your mind, care to share." Greg smirked.

"Trust you to figure it out." Mycroft tilted his head and sat down opposite him, a glass of fresh orange juice next to him. He was taking small sips.

"Did you know, I heard you should drink chocolate milk after exercising, it would prevent cramps." Greg commented says as he watches his partner.

"And defeat the purpose of me running?" Mycroft replied with a grimace and continued to drink.

"Also you are reflecting Gregory, what is on your mind?"

"As you know, the Yard has this charity event at the end of every year and I thought we can participate this year."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"They are hosting a Triathlon if I remember correctly."

"You know you are right. And yes…they are."

"A triathlon consist of three parts, the most popular of them are swimming, running and cycling, and don't get me wrong, but I'm the only one fit…"

"The runner yes…I'll get an exercise bike and do that…"

"And the swimmer?"

"Sally. She is brilliant, use to compete in school."

"Let me get this straight, you want me, with you and Sally to participate in the triathlon?" Mycroft asked as he eyed his partner, Greg's eyes were bright and he was smiling.

"Yeah, that sums it up."

"For what charity?"

"I was thinking cancer or an orphanage?" He had to bring children in, how on earth is Mycroft supposed to say no now?

"And we will prepare and have a tight exercise regime that we would follow strictly along with an eating plan?" Greg's eyes widen a bit, he was all for doing this, but the eating plan was not part of his plan.

"If we do this Gregory, we do it properly."

"Okay." Greg nodded. "You're right, so I take it you are game for it?"

"It is a good cause." Mycroft shrugged but Greg could see he was just as eager, he jumped up and pulled Mycroft up to him for a kiss.

"Yes it is, and I love you."


	226. Stumble

14\. Stumble

It was a gruelling few days; Greg got called out to a case and this lead him to a trip to the country side, a stay at a small little Inn and then another two days straight working. Mycroft was livid, he didn't mind that Greg spent so much time working, he did mind when his team refused to back him up, and supported him, while he did all the work. Sally was on leave and apparently this was the perfect opportunity for the rest of the team to slack.

Greg in a way to avoid fights and conflict on top of the long hours left it alone. He considered the fact that they did what he told them to do, was for now enough, he didn't feel like forcing them to go the extra mile, if they don't want to, he wasn't going to force it, he would rather have a team that went willingly as that meant they did it for the job, not they pay, than a team that went unwillingly and make mistakes.

It was just after six when Mycroft saw the front door open. Greg came in, no he stumble through the door, his face tired, eyes blurry and a two day old beard around his mouth.

"Gregory." Mycroft drawled out, meeting him in the foyer. Greg looked up and for the first time his eyes lost some bleariness.

"My…" He grabbed on to Mycroft holding him tight as he let go of the tension in his body, he was home.

"Come, dinner, shower and bed." Mycroft ordered helping Greg to the kitchen.

"I'm okay, what about the Jacuzzi…."

"No, he will just fall asleep in the water."

"Yes, but you will hold me up…come on."

Mycroft cupped Greg's cheeks with a fondness.

"My dear, a Jacuzzi is not a bed."

"I love sleeping a tub filled with warm water."

"I know. I must always wake up to get in bed."

"Please?"

"How about a warm shower, a few hours' sleep and then when you wake later tonight, or in the early morning we can do it? We both have tomorrow off."

Greg woke at two in the morning after about six hours of sleep and as promised he and Mycroft each got a glass of wine and spent some quality time in the Jacuzzi.


	227. The chandelier

15\. The chandelier

The room was filled with people, couples and waiters, an orchestral band in one corner, even an ice sculpture in the other. Greg couldn't stop looking at it all, it was magnificent, not to mention how left out he was feeling, he wasn't used to such an open display of money, wealth and status and it was quite nauseating. It is supposed to be for a charity but Greg didn't understand, all this money spent on an event to collect money seemed like a wasted opportunity.

Why not just donate the money, leave the glitz and glamour and the ego along with the need to showcase to the world, what a generous arse you are and let the charity add that to the original amount they spend on this night and do something good with it.

He couldn't understand it, and at this point he wasn't even going to try to do it.

"Everything all right?" Mycroft's voice sounded so calm and strong in his ear, he looked to the side and took one of the glasses of champagne Mycroft held out to him.

"Thanks. I'm okay, just a bit overwhelmed." Greg replied and took a sip of his champagne; the bubbles tickled his throat as he drank it.

"You do realise you have no reason to be?"

Greg just smiled in return. He watched the orchestra starting to play a soft waltz and the light dimmed a bit in one corner that served as the dance floor. One chandelier was hanging in the middle, with bright crystals sparkling in small rainbows and stars around the room.

"That's a cool chandelier; we should get one for out living room." Greg joked, trying to ease the tension. Mycroft smiled.

"Yes it is, but I don't think either of us want to dish out £30 000 for that monstrosity.

Greg stared, thirty thousand pounds…this was ridiculous. He finishes champagne and put the glass on the tray a waiter was holding nearby.

"Thanks." He automatically said and to his surprise the waiter turned to him in surprise.

"Pardon?"

"I thanked you for being close and picking up everyone's empty glasses." The man was surprised and kept staring at Greg, who was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"It's just, you're the first to speak to me all evening."

Now it was Greg's turn to stare. This is a charity event, to show that people care, yet they couldn't care enough to acknowledged the person, serving their drinks or clearing their table? Mycroft pulled Greg so he was looking at him.

"Gregory, what is going on?"

"My tux is over a thousand pounds yea, the chandelier is over thirty thousand, and I don't even want to know how much the food is, I use to spend less than a thousand on my groceries per month, you're the mathematician, how many mouths can one feed with my tux and the chandelier alone? Now add everyone's contribution, and the amount it actually cost to host this event. People are supposed to care and give to less fortunate, yet they can't even acknowledge the person next to them, because he is of a different class, a waiter. How hypocritical are they?"

"Gregory…"

"I just think that people should stop showing off and be who they are, without the need to showcase a façade to the world."

"I agree, but for tonight, please just don't think about it."

"Just as long as you know, I much rather would give money to an orphanage or foster home in our neighbourhood without wearing a tux, I'm here for you, no one else."

"I know. I appreciate it, now please, let's go sit down and have dinner."


	228. Documentary

16\. Documentary

It was just after ten both men were in bed, early for a change and was just lying in the dark, holding each other and talking about everything they could think off. The conversation dried up a bit, and the room was quiet when Greg broke the silence.

"Love?"

"Hmmm."

"Sherlock's isn't really a high functioning sociopath rich? He just says it because it is easier to explain his behaviour and to keep people at a distance." Mycroft body tensed up but just as quick relaxed again.

"Why do you say that?"

"I was watching this documentary the other day, on mental disorders and social anxiety and stuff and it was very interesting and there was this bit where they talked about sociopaths and I realised that Sherlock's has some of those traits, but not definitive, he sounds more like someone with an anxiety disorder, but it is harder to explain so he says that, to push people away and to make sure they don't ask too many questions."

Mycroft turned in the bed and Greg followed suit, so that they were lying face to face. Mycroft kissed Greg's palm.

"He isn't, you are right, he just says it, because as you say, it keeps people away, you see he always struggled to adapt in normal circumstances, more so than me, I am able to cope with it, he haven't learned the necessary skills and refuse to, it keeps thing interesting he once said."

"I think he also does it, because he feels so much, he denies it, but I know he cares, but in the whole 'sociopath' thing, he can push people away and so keep himself and his mind and heart safe." Greg replied and Mycroft looked at him with open wonder.

"You know, you are a lot smarter that what he gives you credit for."

"I know it keeps things interesting." Greg replied Sherlock's answer back to Mycroft. They both smiled and laughed softly and honestly it was the best sound in the world.


	229. Sutures

17\. Sutures

Greg eyed the five small stitches on his arm with disdain. How on earth is he going to hide this from Mycroft? He sighed and with long steps made it to his car. The whole time as he drove he kept thinking about it, there is no way he can hide this from him, it is not like he wanted to, he didn't mind Mycroft knowing, it is the how he got them that is the concern.

It is not every day, a fifty something year old makes such an arse out of himself. To be fair he is quite lucky that he only needed five stitches, his knee was a bit sore too, but that is not so bad.

He got home and parked the car and made his way inside, now that the adrenalin has worn off, and his body was relaxed, all of a sudden new aches and pains are showing themselves. Well Mycroft isn't here yet, so he will just play it cool...

"Aaargh.." He groaned as he climbed the front stairs, this isn't good. Well he will just take a hot shower, yes that would work.

With slow steady steps he made it up the stairs and once in the shower he let out an audible groan of satisfaction.

"Well, this is a surprise…." Greg spun around to see Mycroft standing there, arms folded and a very exasperated look in his eyes.

"My…What are you doing here?"

"I live here…with you…."

Greg smiled and looked around but being in a shower, there wasn't much he could do.

"Did you just got home?"

"No, I've been here since lunch…I watched you stumble your way in the house and the quite frankly sad stagger up the stairs not to mention, the slight cripple as he got in the shower….care to explain…" Mycroft stated and looked down his body to see the big blue bruise on the knee. Greg looked down and tried to look innocently.

"I bumped my knee?"

"Shall I just stand here and pretend to believe you?"

Greg as about to reply yes, when the look Mycroft clearly said 'I dare you, come on' He sighed.

"I fell at a crime scene today, I was walking down a hallway, to go outside, didn't see the step and fell arse over head on the floor, got five stitches too."

"You got sutures?" Mycroft asked and stepped closer. Greg dutifully held out his arm, there close to the elbow was a small cut with five dark blue stitches.

"Why do you want to hide it from me?"

"Because it is so embarrassing." Mycroft stepped into the shower that he was standing with Greg under the spray, not even a little worried about his clothes.

"But if I don't know…how I will be able to kiss it better…to wash your back…and your legs…since bending is a bit…" He looked down. "Hard…?"

That was a fair point, one he didn't even consider, putting on his most innocent look he stared at Mycroft.

"I just found a new ache…right here in my neck." He tilted his head and Mycroft leaned forward to kiss his

"And here..." He pointed to his jaw and Mycroft kissed along his jaw.

"Any other places."

"Oh so many…."


	230. Emails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something small:   
> It felt like yesterday that I was asked to do another year of prompts and I'm almost done, only 135 to go,it may seem like a lot, but considering how fast this year has been going there's not much left.   
> Anyhow, I hope this year so far has been good to you, and if a bit bad,it's okay, you are stronger than you know.   
> Have a lovely weekend everyone.

18\. Emails

The moment they discovered they their surrogate mother was pregnant they looked at each other and gave a nod. Greg once mentioned it and Mycroft was very keen to do that. That day, they took a photo of the results, scanned it into the computer and saved it.

"So were doing this?" Mycroft asked as they both sat in front of the laptop, both smiling from ear to ear.

"Yes we are." Greg agreed and watched as Mycroft started to type.

"Opening a new account now…name?"

"Dadstreasure without the apostrophe." Greg replied and Mycroft typed it in.

A few minutes later they had the email account set up and it was working fine.

"Okay, we can send the first email." Mycroft responded and then opened his email account.

"Great." Greg replied and watches as Mycroft started typing, about halfway he stopped.

"I don't know what to say?"

"Let's take a video and email that."

With a nod Mycroft opened the laptop camera and then both their faces stared back at them, Greg instantly smiled.

"It's recording." Mycroft said. Greg leaned a bit forward.

"Hello little one, or ones….we are you dads…today we just found out that we are pregnant."

"Not us…the surrogate mother, we are male…" Mycroft added.

"Yes…and this is your email account, made by us, hacked by us and made for you. We will send you emails on a regular basis, the first sonar, the birth, your room, photos as you grow older."

"And every day letters and little things that you do, that amazed us, that made us proud to be your fathers…"

"Dads…"

"Thanks Gregory…"

"You're welcome Love."

"And these emails will be kept here and safe and one day, we will give you the account and the password, and you can read all about it. For now…just know, that you are already much loved, much anticipated, and already a treasure in both our hearts."

"Aah, and you didn't know what to say… I love you." Greg turned to Mycroft cupping his cheek.

"I love you too."


	231. Blonde

19\. Blonde

"You are not in England right now are you? SH"

Mycroft frowned at the message, not quite understanding what his brother is one about now, the man clearly has something on his mind, but what it could be, and he had no idea.

" **No Sherlock, I will be back tomorrow. Why? MH"**

"Your partner has been abandoned by his mind. SH"

Mycroft rolled his eyes, Gregory is fine, if he missed Mycroft a bit, that is okay, he wouldn't be too concern, after all he missed the man too.

" **I'm sure he is fine, I'll be back tomorrow. MH."**

"Not what I meant he has been idiotic and did a very foolish thing, he looks ridiculous. SH."

There were no plans, Greg had his job and no other plans, and so there wasn't a ridiculous thing to do.

" **What happened? MH"**

"Look for yourself. SH."

"Fix it. SH"

"Immediately. SH."

Sighing Mycroft requested the latest security footage of his partner, Anthea email him the latest shots, and it was taken an hour ago. Mycroft opened the email and his eyes widen in surprise. What did the bloody idiot do?

" **When did this happen! He looks like an idiot. MH"**

"Yeah, but he is your idiot. SH."

Mycroft couldn't reply to that, after all he was right, Greg was his, but this latest, hell he couldn't even think about a title to name this, venture, idiotic impulse…

One thing to do.

"Anthea, arrange for our departure home, right now please."

Oblivious Greg came home tired after a long day. Not in the mood to cook, he bought some take-away. The moment he stepped into the house Mycroft spoke up.

"What on earth were you thinking?"

Greg nearly knocked the vase on the side table when Mycroft spoke up.

"Mycroft, what the hell!" Greg breathed deep and then walked closer to kiss Mycroft who kept him at arm's length. Greg frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"What did you to do to it?" Mycroft nearly sounded hysterical, his voice sad as if he lost something valuable.

"To what?"

"My…my locks…the silver strand….it's gone…"

"Oh, this…yeah, I lost a bet with Sally so I had to colour it, I've been getting this weird looks, I don't think blonde fits me."

"A bet….you got rid of my silver for this bleached monstrosity?"

"Hey, it's not so bad…" Greg protested as Mycroft kept pulling strands of hair with a look of disgust on his face.

"Can you change it back?"

"Yeah…I mean, I just had to prove I would do it." Greg tried and Mycroft sighed.

"Good, your appointment is tomorrow morning at eight. I will take you personally." Mycroft declared as if that was the end of discussion.

"Just like that hey."

"Yes, just like that."

"Well, no that the important stuff is out of the way, can I kiss my partner now?" Mycroft shrugged, but Greg ignored that and pulled him closer into a kiss.


	232. Tissues

20\. Tissues

The first thing Greg was aware off was the cold; it was coldness that seeped into his bones and grabbed as tight as it could. He tried to move, trying to find a blanket when he realised that he couldn't move. There was something on his wrist, keeping him from moving. Then they came the cold crippling fear, he couldn't see anything. His eyes were open, but everything was pitch black. He was surrounded by a black thickness, it was tangible, he was sure of it.

"H…." He tried to talk, but not a word came out. His lips refused to part, he tried to probe it open with his tongue, but it was futile. There was something on his lips, not a piece of duct tape, nor a cloth or gag, this was on his lips and it was terrifying.

On instinct he clenched his fists, the muscles pressing against the bind, or rope, or whatever was binding him against the chair. He was sitting in some chair, a reclining chair as he could feel he was half upright and half lying down. It was a smooth and cold metal that was like a cold storm on all the sides. He was shivering.

Next was the silence, the heavy silence that refused to give him a clue on where he was. He was uncertain how long he sat there when there was a noise in the distance. It sounded like heavy footfall, next the overhead lights burst on with a fluorescent force that blinded him.

"Good day Inspector." After a few blinks he open his eyes to see the man standing next to his chair. He was indeed in a reclining chair, one usually used at barbers. The man was not very tall, with a white moustache and grey hair.

"H…"

"Oh, please don't try to talk, it won't help, your lips are glued together." The man's voice was soft, calming yet it caused havoc to Greg's nerves. His eyes widen. His lips were glued shut.

"You are probably wondering why you are here. The answer is, you got too close." Realisation was like a cold blanket tucking him in. This man was….he was…

"Ah yes, I am he. Your latest serial killer, tell me, what are the media calling me? There's some mix up, Daily Mail went for 'four squared Man', and the Telegraph went for 'the Tissue Handler'. I must say, I'm not keen on either, but they are right, I do attack all four main tissues of the human body, the epithelial, the connective, the muscle and the nervous tissue, but I don't kill them on purpose…it is an experiment you see, some live, some die…but you seem strong, a fighter. I read about you, you are tenacious and bull-headed, perfect."

Greg didn't feel so strong now, he didn't feel so stubborn now, in fact, he wanted to scream and run away.

"Okay, so we will start with this…" He held up and IV and small bag. Greg tried to squirm and fight to get loose, but he couldn't.

"Don't get so worked up now, this is only a saline filled with the necessary nutrients and supplements to keep you strong. The real fun will begin tomorrow."

Greg watched in fear as the man inserted the thick needle into his arm, the veins in his arm bulging as the needle and liquid went through. He could only watch in muted pain as he prayed that someone finds him. soon.


	233. Foundations

21\. Foundations

Greg wanted to roll his eyes at the absurdity of it all. How ironic that off all the places in London those bodies can be hidden away, the last place he considered was in the foundation. The foundations of a building, this is London not Las Vegas. The buildings are so old, that the usual findings in medieval artefacts, like the Jubilee and so forth. Not a seven year old body. That was what the 21st century.

Yet, here he was on a warm Saturday afternoon, overseeing the removal and digging up of the remains, across the street an impromptu soccer game was being played, the youngsters not even bothered by the police presence. A few spectators would occasionally look their way, but Greg knew, in this neighbourhood police is an everyday presence and you make sure you didn't see anything.

"Inspector, we're all done." Greg looked up to see the forensic team had completed collecting all the remains, and were waiting for him.

"Yeah, let's get out of here, and find out who the poor soul used to be."

" _Got a body in a foundations, did we skip New York and went straight to Las Vegas? GL"_

" **Tell me all about it tonight; I'll put the showgirls on hold. MH"**


	234. Knitting

**22\. Knitting**

Greg watched the woman in the waiting area, every now and then she would look up to see the people walking past her to the doors of the building and then she would look down and continue her knitting. From the looks of it she is knitting a beanie in beautiful lush wool, a dark red colour reminding him of the red wine he and Mycroft would drink late nights when they would sit on the patio in the summer watching stars and dreaming of the future.

He was busy but she was there for nearly twenty minutes and so far no one has helped her.

Making his mind up he got up and walked towards her.

"Good day, can I help you?"

She looked up at him.

"I'm almost finished." Greg was confused what did she meant by that.

"I'm sorry?"

"No need to apologise I am almost done and then I will move on." Greg was dumbfounded, he started to wonder if she was maybe using drugs. From the calmness she radiated he couldn't tell if she was indeed on some drug, definitely no alcohol either.

"Would you like some coffee or tea perhaps?" he asked instead.

"Oh I would love for a cuppa."

"Uuh...just stay here."

She nodded in return and he quickly went to the small kitchen to make her some tea, he poured it in of his mugs and then took it to her.

"Here you go."

"Oh thank you." for a moment she stop knitting and pick up the mug taking a sip. "It's wonderful thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Listen I'll be right back, I just need to make a call."

"I'll be here." Given her a quick smile he walked towards his office. The call was a bit longer than he anticipated and when he was finished he turned around to find the woman, who was such a mystery to him. She was gone and her place was his mug with a small woollen heap. He walked closer and saw the mug was empty and the beanie as well. It looked so cosy and warm. There was a small note attached. ' _Ta for the tea, and for your kindness, hope you like your beanie'_

He picked it up and was surprised to find it so soft. He walked to the reception and asked about the women.

The lady gave him a look.

"We call her crazy Cathy' she goes around this neighbourhood and knit stuff giving it away for free. She apparently lives nearby and some say she has some mental disorder, she bothers no one so one really cares."

Greg walked back to his office, the beanie in his hands.

It was some strange experience and he hope to see her again, just to say thanks.

The beanie fit perfectly.


	235. Lamp shade

**23\. Lamp shade**

Mycroft found the old worn black bag in the bag of the wardrobe, the first weekend he spent over at Greg's place. Greg was in the shower when he peeked and was very surprised to see the old dark brown smooth rustic guitar, in half...he frowned at that, trying to figure out what happened but didn't feel like asking Greg.

After a few months of being together he helped Greg to pack his stuff into boxes, Greg was moving in with him, Mycroft felt wonderful, complete and very much in love. That Greg agreed to move in with him was wonderful and he already started to plan their future, their lives together. Greg changed him, no he just revealed the parts Mycroft kept hidden for so long. The old guitar came out, the worn black covered in a slight layer of dust. Greg's fingers have drawn little paths in it. Mycroft watched the emotions on his face, sad and dismay.

"What happened to your guitar Gregory?"

Greg looked at him and tried to find the words.

"Ex broke it and after a fight, I nearly hit her...didn't but wanted to. She took everything and she couldn't let me keep this..." Mycroft wanted to hit her too.

"I'm sorry Gregory." Greg shrugged.

"I'm saving for a new one, but I can't throw Clover out." Mycroft saw the small four clover leaf hand painted on the corner when he first found it, Greg was sentimental about it.

It was Greg's birthday and Mycroft followed him to the store to buy a brand new guitar, 'from me to me' type of thing. Mycroft would always treasure the happiness on his face when Greg held a new guitar, in a dark red wood, calling it 'ginger bread' you didn't need to be a Holmes to make a connection.

That evening after dinner Mycroft took Greg's hand and led him to the spare room, the one Greg's called 'shotgun' on for his man cave. Greg reached out to switch the light one but Mycroft stopped him.

"Follow me." Mycroft whispered and led Greg to one side where the lamp was. He lifted the small wire and handed it to Greg.

"I got you a new lamp and lampshade for your room, I really hope you like it."

"Of course, I'll be deligh..." Greg didn't finish the sentence as he switched the light on. Mycroft took his old broken guitar and somehow fixed it, instead of clear glue it looked like small golden rays and the best part was that it was stood upright with the lamp on the one end, the rounded wood was glued to a small ramp the small clover leaf still there.

"It's...I...this..."

"Clover may never play alive again, but it doesn't mean it can't bring you some light and joy. I thought this would be better than gathering dust?"

"Yes...Definitely...thank you. It's the best ever."

"Mycroft's heart swelled with love, he took Greg's hand in his.

"I love you."

"I love you too."


	236. Cold front

**24\. Cold front**

Mycroft watched from the car as Greg tried to wrap up the crime scene as quick as possible. The weather forecast said that tonight there is a cold front hitting London and he wants them both home safe inside and in front of the fireplace. He will even put a drink in their hands….or some wine…

A small gust of wind blew against the car and a small café board with the special of the day fell over. Mycroft looked out the window to see the waitress scrambling to pick it up and keep her skirt from giving onlookers an eyeful, they weren't expecting. Leaning forward he look towards the other side of the window where Greg was busy giving instructions.

"Oh good Lord." Greg just took off his long coat so he could help with the collecting and moving of stuff. His shirt was thin enough as it is and Mycroft sighed.

"In this bloody weather…is he asking for a cold…"

"Pardon me sir?" The driver looked back and asked, thinking Mycroft spoke to him.

"No, I was just thinking out loud."

He continued to watch as Greg finish up, helped his team load everything in the forensic van and then pulled on his coat and rushed towards the car. As he opened the door this huge cold blast entered the car and Mycroft shivered.

"Sorry Love, the wind messed up a bit, took a bit longer." Greg explained and leaned over to kiss Mycroft.

"Your lips are so cold." Mycroft remarked as Greg pulled back and smiled at that. Mycroft smiled back as they went home.

At home Mycroft sent Greg up to have a warm shower while he got dinner ready. He knew when something was up, when Greg took five minutes than longer to come downstairs. When he finally did, he walked a bit slower. Mycroft turned around to ask him if everything is okay when a loud sneeze echoed around the room.

"Oh Gregory…"

"Oops…"


	237. Shoe laces

**25\. Shoe laces**

Greg walked in behind Mycroft into their home, Sherlock was there and Greg could see they were sitting on the patio outside, where the twin's sandpit was. They were sitting drinking juice and eating biscuits. Greg stepped closer to greet them when he bumped into Mycroft who was frozen in front of him.

"Love?" He asked confused but Mycroft grabbed him and pulled him to the hallway, his face white, his eyes full of fear and pain.

"What the hell Mycroft? What happened?"

"She is like…I knew it…I feared it…Gregory….Euros…"

"Okay…what is wrong. Why on earth do you think our little girl is like her?"

"The dolls, the shoe laces." Greg frowned and walked out the back to the living room and sure enough, three of her dolls and one teddy bear was tied up in various positions with shoe laces, the laces from the shoes her and her brother's sneakers. Greg had to admit and looked out to the widow to see the kids with Sherlock happy and smiling. His little, with that radiant smile and sparkling eyes….no….oh boy…

Sherlock looked up and indicated inside and the twins turned around. Their faces lit up brighter than Christmas lights. They rushed in as fast as they could.

"Daddy! Dada! They yelled when they saw both their dads, both a little pale. On instinct they grouched down and caught the running rascals. Sherlock walked in on a slow easy pace.

"Sherlock showed us knots…" Greg and Mycroft turned to each other.

"W..what?" Mycroft asked as he looked at his daughter.

"We were bored, and he showed us tricks with the shoe laces…"

Mycroft looked at Sherlock who looked pride at his work until he read the expression on Mycroft's face, the misunderstanding. His smile disappeared and eyes grew in shock.

"Oh...I'm sorry…" He mumbled softly, the guilt clear on his face.

Mycroft walked over to him.

"It's okay…don't worry…" Sherlock nodded, they will talk later. Right now Mycroft was too relieved to worry about anything else. Greg just shook his head in exasperation.


	238. Blood pressure

26\. Blood pressure

Mycroft watched the glass as if it was holding a gun on him. A gun and a note telling him to drink this, otherwise there would be consequences. He looked up to the man sitting across from him, a happy smug smile on his lips, his hair in wild streaks, he had a rough day and his hands run through his head a lot more than necessary. Right now, he looked relaxed, his arms folded and back resting against the chair.

"What is this?" Mycroft asked, pointing at the object.

"A glass, one of your refined crystal ones in fact." Came the smug reply.

"It is filled with something."

"Yeah, a delicious golden liquid."

"Gregory…"

"Mycroft."

"Greg…"

"My…"

A loud sigh, his partner can be so stubborn sometimes.

"Did you pour me a beer?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Cause I read that a bucket load of people die each year of high blood pressure and stress, and turns out, a glass of beer, up to three times a week, can actually be quite healthy, it helps the bone density, dementia and some other stuff."

"So you thought I should drink beer?"

"Yup. I'm thinking twice a week and then slowly increasing it to three…"

"And let me guess, you are doing it out of the concern for my health."

"Absolutely. Bottoms up!"


	239. Reservations

27\. Reservations

Greg came home tired, hungry and cold, the past few days have been rough on both of them, and a cold streak, a few murders, and some unruly politicians…take your pick. Hanging his coat by the door, Greg did all he could not to fall face first into the big sofa and just sleep. Instead he pulled a mature grown-up streak, walked over to his partner and greeted him with a kiss, before sitting down next to him and painted himself against Mycroft side, which chuckled but pulled him close.

"Rough day?"

"Eeeegh."

"I hear you. You will be glad to hear that it is just four more days, and then we both have the week off." Greg pushed a bit away so he could look at Mycroft.

"Can't wait…just stay indoors, no murders, no paperwork…heaven…"

Mycroft shifted a bit and Greg picked up on it immediately.

"What?"

"We will need to go out; I made us reservations at the ' _Waving waters_.'"

Greg shrugged.

"Oh, okay, one night out."

Mycroft shifted a bit more. Greg sat up right.

"Out with it, all of it."

"The ' _Waving Waters'_ is on the Caribbean cruise ship, ' _The Sunstrike'"_

"So how are we going to the restaurant?"

"By going on the week cruise…."

"You….we…are…the week…"

"Yeah…"

Greg stared at the man in front of him, they were going on their first official holiday, and it is a cruise ship…


	240. Bellow

**28\. Bellow**

It was a relaxing Sunday afternoon and both Greg and Mycroft for a change didn't feel like staying home so they went to the local flea market.

Both promising not to buy the first thing they see or just because it's cheap. They have done it in the past and now them half a part of the garage dedicated to all the 'interesting stuff' they bought.

They started with the usual local crafts, and handmade things crocheted or knitted, weaved and sewn and all that before they spend a few minutes at the homemade jams and fruit in the canning and preserving section.

After a very long and in-depth discussion of three minutes and a

"I want strawberry jam"

"I'd like the lemon marmalade" They had a small bag with various homemade foods.

Next was the stall with books that took up some more bags and lessening of the pocket.

It was the last stall and by mutual agreement the stopped and see what they could find.

Greg watched as Mycroft's face lit up and he leaned closer to see what captured his attention.

Greg saw the dark wood and old leather. It was an old traditional fireplace hand bellow.

"Gregory." Mycroft breathed as he picks it up. Greg walked closer.

"It will look perfect next to the fireplace." Mycroft turned to Greg smiling .

"You think so?"

"Yeah definitely."

"I did."


	241. Blossoms

29\. Blossoms

Greg thought it weird and strange that Mycroft asked him with on a business trip to Washington. Usually he was 'oh I'm sorry I can't take you', or 'this is classified' or something. There was always something, yet Mycroft came home a few weeks back and requested that Greg take a week off, so he can go with him to America.

Greg did it, after much debate, as Mycroft didn't say anything as to why all of a sudden, just that he wishes not to go alone, and prefer his partner to go with him.

Three weeks later they were in Washington, the final dregs of winter were gone and the feeling of spring was evident all around.

"So what am I to do while you are in meetings?" Greg asked when they were safe in the hotel room.

"My meetings are scheduled over three days, in the mornings so that we can have the rest of the day."

"Three days? What about the other two days…"

"I'm sure we can find something to do."

"You drag me here for more days than necessary because you want us to go on a mini holiday, right?" Mycroft could only nod with a guilty look, that melted Greg's heart and resulting in a very long night.

By Thursday, Greg was relaxed and calm and had seen most of the city. Today and Friday and Saturday they will be spending the whole day and fly back Sunday morning. Mycroft said he wanted to show Greg something special and that it is a surprise. Greg just followed along, not wanting to spoil the moment.

"I want you to close your eyes." The car had dark windows so Greg couldn't see anything and looked strange at Mycroft but nodded.

"You better not let me fall out of the car." Laughing softly Mycroft helped Greg out the car and stood behind him, he leaned in closer.

"I wanted to show you this; I wanted to see you walk through this pathway, surrounded by this colour. Open your eyes."

Greg opened his eyes and his mouth fell open. They were standing in front of a pathway, surrounded on every side by the most beautiful trees in full blossoming colour, it seemed magical.

"What…."

"It's the annual Cherry Blossoms spring festival, held every year."

Greg slowly started walking his eyes not leaving the canopy over his small flowers and the most beautiful colours of pink and white and shades of the two colours were everywhere. He stopped and turned to Mycroft, who was standing mesmerised as well, but not by the cherry blossoms, but by the man in front of him.

"You're memorising me right now aren't you?"

"I've never stop."


	242. Velvet

30 velvet

Mycroft came home and stopped in the foyer, there was an amazing smell of baked goods drifting through the house, he tilted his head. Cake…

Someone was baking a cake…in his oven…

"Bloody hell!" a familiar gruff voice yelled and then something was dropped on the table.

Oven mittens, how many times must he tell that man of his to use oven mittens, and not a dishcloth…

Sighing he made his way over to the kitchen and was greeted by a wonderful sight. Greg was in his casual jeans, sneakers and an old rock and roll t-shirt and was covered in flour. The table held already like a dozen or more cupcakes and there was a bowl with icing, all was pitch black.

"Straight to desert?" Mycroft asked as he stepped in.

Greg turned to him, laughing, making little flour crinkles on his face that Mycroft found very attractive.

"Hey, I'm baking cupcakes for our Halloween breakfast tomorrow at the Yard."

"In black?"

"Its black velvet cupcakes with black buttercream icing and those for decorations…" Greg replied and pointed to another container on the edge of the table. Mycroft opened in, and bit his lip.

"Red horns, small silver cuffs, blue and yellow badges, and….is that small crime scene tape?"

"Yup, all edible…oh there are small notebooks too, for all the paperwork…."

"This looks delicious, do you need help?"

"Yeah, you get to decorate…I can't handle that buttercream mixture, will muck it up."

"Are you using me for my refining skills…."

Greg stood up and looked at Mycroft.

"Yeah…and if you do a good job, you can have desert."

"Oh, thank you…I'm not sure if I want black police cupcakes."

"I wasn't talking about the cupcakes…."


	243. Conspiracy

31\. Conspiracy.

Greg and Mycroft was nestled together close on the sofa watching a movie when a thought struck Greg. The movie was about how a government was hiding a secret from the nation and tried to cover it up.

Greg moved so that he was looking at Mycroft.

"My…"

"Hmm…"

"Is aliens real?" Mycroft frowned and turned to Greg.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to know if aliens exist."

"Why are you asking me?"

"Cause if anyone would know, it would be you."

Mycroft smiled for a moment when he sighed.

"You do realise if they are real I can't tell you."

"Fair enough, just tell me, that they aren't all as ugly and weird looking as the movies make them."

"You do realise I have no idea what to say to that?"

"It's true, most alien movies, they are always super smart, but incredibly ugly, misshapen or just weird."

"Okay…I give you that."

Greg nodded and tilted his head as he thought of another question.

"What?"

"I was just wondering, is there any other conspiracy theories you can reveal to me, or bunk?"

"No."

"Werewolves?"

"That's a myth, not a conspiracy theory."

"Vampires."

"Myth…"

"Time travel?"

"Yes, the Doctor is actually real, and works for me." Mycroft replied staring straight at Greg.

"Which one…David, Matt or Peter?"

"All of them."

"Is David really so attractive?"

"No…it is Photoshop."

"Nah that I doubt."

They stared at one another before they broke out in laughter at the same time.

Greg snuggled back in Mycroft's side to watch the movie, while Mycroft looked out the window…


	244. Cholesterol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! 
> 
> In case you're interested, today is the 1st of September prompt...thay means 4 months to go...

1 Cholesterol

They realised that they were dealing with something very serious when the third victim in two months died of a heart attack. All three in excellent health condition, yet with extreme high cholesterol levels.

Greg realised that something was wrong. With Jessica Matthews, the first victim was a regular blood donor and Greg requested a copy of the blood results that is mandatory on every pint of blood donated and found those two months before her death, her levels were extremely low. There was no way it could've raised to the levels it was at her death in such a short time. Mike Bramley wasn't a donor, but he did have regular blood works done four months before his death, and even then his levels were low.

Mary Somers unfortunately was the odd one out, they had no previous test on her, the last being four years before her death, but Greg would bet his salary, hers wasn't so high.

This means one thing.

Baker Street.


	245. Odds

2\. Odds

Mycroft knew that look. That 'I just thought of something brilliant' look. Greg was also walking with a much too evident swagger than normal.

"Love." He greeted Mycroft with a kiss and tight hug. Mycroft went along with the kiss and hug and then pushed Greg away.

"Out with it…" He said and folded his arms, expectantly.

"What…"

"I know you and I know that look, what is it?"

"What is what?"

"My dearest, you clearly thought of something and I would like to know what it is – as it clearly involves me."

Greg opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it.

"Yeah okay…"

"So…"

"I wat thinking that you should help me to work out the odd of winning the lottery, or gambling."

"The world series to be precise."

"Yeah…how did…" Greg asked stunned.

Mycroft sighed.

"You and Sally have a bet every year and this year Dimmock is taking part, you want to win, you hate gambling and you have never played lotto."

Greg could only laugh in return. Mycroft smiled back, knowing he was right.

"So…" Greg started. "…want to help me kick their arses?"

Mycroft took Greg's hand and pulled him closer.

"Let's get started…"


	246. No backup

3\. No backup

When the call came Mycroft was furious, the first reaction was disbelief, stress, worry and then anger. Anthea just gave him the update that Greg was caught in a hostage situation. That wasn't what made him angry, no…he knew the danger and the risks involved with a man like Gregory, what angered him, was the fact that he went into the house without backup.

Yes.

Greg went into a very dangerous situation with no backup. He called it in, and then just went high over heels into the store where the prime suspect was without anyone backing him up.

By the time the squad cars and enforcement arrived, Greg was already inside for ten minutes, the worse was that they had no idea what was going on, whether anyone is alive, nothing. No new information to report.

Mycroft was at the scene fifteen minutes later and was standing as close as possible. Sally saw him and rushed over to him.

"Mr. Holmes."

"Sergeant….Anything?" He asked softly. She shook her head. She was one of the few who knew about this relationship with Greg.

"No…I'm sorry. We keep dialling the store number, but so far no one has picked up. There's movement, but no one is making an attempt to communicate."

"Besides Gr..Detective Lestrade, who else is in there?"

"An elderly lady, two school teachers and a mother with a baby." Mycroft sighed, the whole recipe of people to make someone like Greg rush in, and from the look Sally is giving him, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"We are waiting for a megaphone so we could try to establish communication through that means, but we have no idea how successful that will be."

"I know you have people for this sort of thing, but I was hoping that I may try?" Sally's eyes widen but nodded. His skills are much better than any of them out here, and he would stand the best change.

"Sure. Come on…" Mycroft followed her towards the front where a Constable was holding a megaphone. Mycroft straightened his back and turned to the store.


	247. Join the club

4\. Join the club

Greg could see it a week before, Mycroft was getting more quiet and withdrawn into himself. He figured it out long before and he promised himself that he would try everything in his power to make the day as wonderful as possible.

He had no set plan as Mycroft made it clear that he doesn't want anything on that day, he didn't want to go out, and didn't want to see anyone. He will do the necessary good son routine and answer the phone call from his parents, the happy wishes from Mummy and Father but that was about it. He even told Greg that unless his brother isn't going to be civil or try to be an adult, he shouldn't bother to call.

He was taking it hard and Greg could understand it, he was the same, and unlike with Greg, Greg would make sure someone can be there for him. Someone can hug him, wish him a happy birthday and tell him it will be fine.

Mycroft woke up to kisses and couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Gregory…"

"Happy birthday Love."

"Aren't you going to tell me 'oh glad you could join the club'?"

"Who did that?"

"I've been hearing it the whole week from the men at the Diogenes."

Greg laughed softly.

"Love, you may be fifty, but you are very far from being in the same boat as them. For starters you got me, and I won't let you fossilised in some antique chair with a cigar, monocles and sour grape expression."

"Is that so?"

"Yup….I has way too much plans and activities for us planned."

Mycroft sighed and turned to Greg.

"I am so thankful, every day to have you in my life, thank you."

"You're welcome."


	248. I'm so over it

5\. I'm so over it

Mycroft watched his brother walk into his office and fell into the chair with an unceremonious drop.

"Glad to see you brother dear tea?" Mycroft greeted and pushed his papers away to give his attention to his brother. Their relationship was much better than before but Mycroft was still cautious not to mess the 'standstill' in their rivalry.

"Please, it is not as if I have a choice." Sherlock answered laying back in the chair, quite relaxed, he glanced around the room, he hasn't been back since the argument with their parents, it seemed it was a lifetime ago, but it barely reach the month stage.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes at the remark, he shouldn't say anything, and Sherlock always have a choice. He sighed and stood up, walking to the small trolley where the kettle and tea were. He quickly prepared the tea and put the cup in front of his brother, with a small plate of biscuits.

"You always have a choice Sherlock, I have coffee too. Ginger nuts, you're favourite". Mycroft replied and moved to his side and sat down with his tea.

Sherlock ignored his brother and started drinking, one biscuit already gone. Mycroft took a sip before he started talking.

"The detective Inspector…."

"Your goldfish." Sherlock interrupted.

Mycroft had to restrain himself from not telling Sherlock off about talking with a mouth full of food. Instead he rolled his eyes, they may be on a standstill with the bickering, but Sherlock still went out of his way to be petty and mean. Mycroft was tired and ignored it.

"Yes…Sherlock, my partner…anyway Gregory said something interesting last night…"Sherlock sat back and rolled his eyes. Mycroft grip the cup, he won't take the bait.

"Last night…"he repeated underlining the fact that he wasn't hiding his relationship with Gregory anymore, to anyone "…he said that you have been a bit odd lately and was concerned, I wanted to make sure you are okay...stop rolling your eyes when I talk to you please…I may not be your favourite person, but give me the curtesy that I extend you please…I care about you and wanted to know if you are coping or need some help…"

Sherlock sat up in the chair staring at Mycroft, the tea half done. He finished chewing on the biscuit as he read Mycroft who was drinking his tea, he hasn't touched the biscuits.

"Help? You think I'm using again..."

"The last few weeks have been quite traumatic…"

"Stop it!" Sherlock put the cup down with a loud bang.

"I'm so over it." Mycroft watch his brother sprang up and started pacing the floor. The overhead light cast in him in dark shadows and contrasting light. Mycroft put his tea down and rested his head on his arms. He screwed up, he tried so hard to be better and he just broke the fragile relationship they have. He replayed the conversation he had with Gregory the night before.

_They were lying on the sofa. Mycroft was snuggled against Greg as tightly as he could._

" _I hope he is not using again…" Greg kissed his palm._

" _Nah…it is different, more mature…there's something on his mind but it is not drugs."_

" _But Gregory…"_

" _Shhh Love, stop worrying.'"_

Sherlock looked at his brother.

"I'm not using, I just…I'm working through a different pro…situation at the moment."

Mycroft looked up in surprise; he expected a fight, not this.

"Anything I can help you with?" He asked, hoping for a chance to be close to his brother once again. Sherlock took a breath and sat down.

"Tell me everything about you and your goldfish…"


	249. Getting lost

**6\. Getting lost**

The horn blaze through the street and it took much of Greg's willpower not to yell something back in a colourful vocabulary.

' _Turn left'_

"It's a one way street!" Greg yelled at the small screen mounted on his dashboard.

' _Make a U-turn_.'

"Are you trying to get me killed? Is this your plan?" Greg eyed the small gps system but that remained silent.

' _Make a U-turn._ '

"Where! You dumb piece of plas…"

Greg's ringtone broke his rant of and he quickly answered.

"Hi Love."

"Good morning Gregory, I take your gps is not working?"

"It is, it is just mental."

"Are you following the instructions?"

"No, because I can't make a U-turn in a one-way…"

' _make a U-turn'_

"Oh shut up I'm talking to someone much cleverer than you…" Mycroft chuckled as he listened to his partner.

"Gregory"

"I'm getting lost and with every mile a bit more…"

"I know…"

"You do?"

"Yes…see that black car on your right shoulder? Follow it, it will guide you to the building your supposed to be."

"Are you watching me on the traffic cameras?"

"Yes, and we can discuss it tonight, now go or you will be late for the meeting."

"Fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you tonight."


	250. 8 glasses a day

**7\. 8 glasses a day**

Greg eyed the beaker on his desk as if was some sort of weird piece of evidence, or some ancient cursed artefact. The beaker on the other hand was sitting there, innocent and minding its own business. It held the litre of water together cold fresh and ready to be poured into the matching glass.

The buzz of an incoming message broke the staring contest between object and person.

" **You can do it. MH"**

" _It's eight, Eight…seven plus one…GL"_

" **Nine minus one…MH. I know exactly how much it is. MH"**

" _Love….GL"_

" **We agreed Gregory, 8 glasses of water per day, one less beer per week. MH"**

" _Yeah…but how on earth am I supposed to drink 8 glasses of water in one day. GL"_

" **The same way you drink 4 pints of beer in one evening, with your hands and mouth. MH"**

" _Sarcasm? You're precious partner is struggling with a huge obstacle and you give him sarcasm? GL"_

" **You're right my precious partner…you drink your 8 eight glasses and I will reward you handsomely. MH"**

" _Bribery? GL"_

" **Incentive…MH"**

" _It better be good. GL"_


	251. Cutting board

8\. Cutting board

Greg came home to a dark and lonely home, Mycroft was here but got called out to a very important meeting apparently and the only text Greg got was 'need to go, be back in a week. Love you.' Greg tried to call him, but the phone was off. He got upset, stressed, angry, and frustrated and then finally a sense of resignation. There was nothing he could do. Mycroft had changed over the past few years and especially months since they lived together but when things like this happen, his automated response would be to revert back to the ice persona and push everything else away.

Greg hangs his coat up and left his keys at the front door before making his way to the kitchen. He switched the light on and nearly started crying. Mycroft was here, he was home and he was preparing dinner. On the table was the wooden cutting board with a plate of food. It was covered so it could stay fresh and a note was on top.

Greg slowly made his way and picked up the note.

" _Sorry I couldn't be here. I love you. Always. See you soon."_

Greg legs gave in and he sat down with the note. Mycroft didn't just left, he made sure Greg was okay, in his own way and then he left. Greg held the note close as he closed his eyes.

Mycroft must come home soon.


	252. Chickens

**9\. Chickens**

Greg was sitting in a corner, his knees drawn up and his fingernails bitten off, he glanced at the torn skin; Mycroft is going to be so upset. Greg gave a slight smile; he can just imagine the conversation. He shivered as goose bumps run down his arms and legs. It wasn't cold in this room, the temperature was constant.

He really wanted to go home.

Sherlock was working around the clock, trying to find out who did this, while Greg…well he was sitting in quarantine. There was an outbreak of bird flu and Greg was caught in the middle, the first on the crime scene, the first to show early symptoms, the first to be placed in isolation. He didn't even have time to call Mycroft. He doesn't even know if Sherlock would.

The call came on a Monday morning, a very suspicious murder on the outskirts of London. By Thursday the media was alerted by Friday Greg was in his own very room, with compliment pyjamas and glass walls to be kept safe and easy for observations.

He doesn't know much, but what he does know, is that he is quite pissed at chickens in general…chickens and egotistical murders who play around with viruses…


	253. Skipping rope

10\. Skipping rope

Greg runs his hands through his hair. This case was one mix-up from the start. Skipping rope, the murdered killed his family with skipping rope. He hanged his face, in an attempt to make it look like a suicide.

Just the word 'fake-suicide' was driving him nuts brining up some distant memories. Luckily, the media didn't catch wind of this, nor did he need to call Sherlock. Still, he wished that it wasn't necessary for Greg to write this up anyhow. He was so tired of domestic murders, husbands killing wives, wives killing husbands the whole shebang… he could understand rage, but why don't you just separate, divorce or whatever you feel like besides killing your wife, because she was suspecting you of an affair? Really? He even cheated on her before the marriage, so why would you get married anyway?

He sighed and sat back in his chair. He doesn't understand this sometimes, he really doesn't. Humans are truly the weirdest species he has ever met.

"Long day?" Greg looked up to the door and immediately smiled.

"My…"

"I take that as a yes."

"Yes, give me five minutes to shut down and get my stuff."

"Of course, I made arrangements for dinner; I was thinking we could go get some of that steak you like at that open grill place on the way home."

"God, yes, I love you."


	254. Cried wolf

11\. Cried wolf

Sherlock called Greg once after he sent the 4 messages. He waited twenty minutes before placing the call and when he received no answer he called Mycroft.

"Lestrade's in trouble."

"What do you mean? Why do you say that?" Mycroft was on instant alert; Sherlock could hear him tapping away at his computer in the background.

"I sent him four messages twenty minutes ago, and I just tried to call him…he isn't replying and he didn't answer."

"Sherlock, maybe he is in a meeting? You have been sending him messages so quick after another for years now, and he always comes back to you."

"Exactly, within twenty minutes. He isn't doing that now."

"You do know what happened to the boy who cried wolf? You always tell him that it is an emergency and how he must hurry, and it hardly is the case."

"Yes, I know, yet he always always respond. Is he showing up on your screens yet?"

"No…I'm tracing his car." Mycroft responded all signs of frustration and annoy gone. Even he is realising something is up.

"Mycroft…where is he?" Sherlock demanded.

"His car is at…on the Hackney Green, close to the industrial side."

"Send cars, I'll meet you there."

Sherlock knew a lot of things, and that there is a very good reason that Greg didn't come respond to him, is one of them.


	255. Twelve

12\. Twelve

Greg was bored, he was off work for the next two weeks due to an injury. At first he hated it, he wanted to go back to work, and he wanted to do cases, catch bad guys and be mobile…that is until he discovered Netflix…and Supernatural.

Like the mind set of so many, the first thought was, 'I'll just watch one episode and see what the fuss was about' then it became…then it came to 'I might as well watch another, this looks interesting, the music is good' by the end of the second day, he was hooked and already have the rest of the seasons on his playlist.

Mycroft was unaware of his partner's slow decent down the fandom rabbit hole, until he had a free evening and decided to watch an episode with Greg.

Two episodes later, Mycroft was in to it and even started asking questions.

"So the Dad just left?"

"Yes, bastard, but he is dead and in hell, Dean is taking care of his brother."

"From the looks of it, since Sam was born."

"Yeah, pretty much and their mother died, burnt on the ceiling."

Mycroft nodded and continued watching another episode.

"I don't trust Ruby."

"Me neither, she is trouble with a capital 'T'."

"So…how many seasons are there?" Mycroft tried to ask as innocently as possible.

"Oh…twelve…just been renewed for a thirteen."

"Good thing you have so much time off"

Greg turned to Mycroft and gave him a smirk.

"Awesome"


	256. My ex

13\. My ex

That was the last thing on my mind of everything that could happen tonight was a fight. I mean seriously, Mycroft and I were supposed to go to dinner, have a good time, come home, and doing everything except fight. In fact we were supposed to do the opposite of fighting.

But of course, something would go wrong. Something always does.

Turns out that of all the people we could run into, it had to be Mycroft's ex. Who knew, the man has exes…very well of exes…who travel the world…who meets celebrities on a daily basis…who holidays in Paris are for cheapskates…who…is everything I am not.

Granted when Mycroft introduced us, he didn't falter or stutter when he explained that I am just a copper, but the way Mr Ex looked at me…I bet I was the slimy alien that jumped out of the chest and had the audacity to get the 100% Egyptian linen full of alien slime.

The night went downhill after that, every smile and happiness I had slowly melted away, like the ice-cream in my bowl…a white sticky creamy mess that swirled in the bowl, and refused to be picked up by my spoon.

Mycroft could see something was off, and he knew something was wrong when I answered my phone like a lifeline, hoping it was case, begging the universe that someone was killed so I could get out of this place. On top of my insecurity and feelings of worthlessness, I just added guilt and shame, that I wished someone died…

I couldn't get out of the restaurant fast enough, I didn't even kissed Mycroft goodbye…didn't want my alien slime to infect him too, dammit I'm a mess.

I try to forget about what happened, and kept my eyes on the crime scene if front of me, this is what I know; this is what I feel good about…

"Greg!" I started at the yell and turned to Sally.

"What?"

"Your phone's been ringing and I'm pretty sure you just got a text."

I look down to my phone, yes…two miss calls…one message.

" **We need to have a long talk…seeing my ex didn't do well for you and I want to know why, come home as soon as you can. Please. MH"**

Yeah, that's not going to happen, I'm going to take my sweet time with the case, until I feel strong enough to face him.


	257. I just wanted to die

14\. I just wanted to die

Greg came out the interrogation feeling drained and tired. The murdered have been struggling with severe depression and schizophrenia since he was a teenager. He hated his job sometimes.

The man decided that he was well enough to stop taking his pills and as a result the mental disorder caused havoc and he decided to kill his entire family. He snapped. As he made his way home the confession played in his mind.

"I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to die and take everything with me."

"With you where?"

"To Hell, or heaven or purgatory, wherever, that way we could be together."

"So why didn't you kill yourself when you finished killing your family."

"I…I ran out of bullets."

That…got to him that made really really angry and sad and frustrated. After that he rushed to finish and made his way home.


	258. Wick

15\. Wick

Mycroft has realised a very long time ago that he was light; he could be the light in many instances, especially in the government. He was bright and smart and had the brains to run a country, however in the shadows. He wasn't meant to be the front man, but the shadow. The puppet master so to speak.

He brought light to dark situations, strategies when there was chaos and order where there was none.

He was happy with that, he could live with that, a dark light so to speak…

Until…

It was bound to happen.

He discovered he was like a oil lamp without a wick, a bulb without electricity, the light he was shining was only a quarter of the potential he had.

Then the wick came and set him alight, the electricity current arrived and set his whole existence on fire.

That wick, that switch; an innocent man by the name of Gregory Lestrade.


	259. Camouflage

16\. Camouflage

Greg eyed the three photos in front of him, a frown on his face and eyes narrowed.

"Love is there something you want to tell me?"

Mycroft turned around from where he was filling their glasses with a rich and dark brandy.

"Excuse me?"

Greg pointed to the photos.

"Are you going back in to the field…?" Mycroft smiled slightly.

"What makes you think that I was ever in the field…as you are well aware the field doesn't allow three piece suits?"

Greg burst out laughing.

"If anyone can pull it off, it would be you. Anyway what makes you think that I don't think you were in the field..."

Mycroft smiled at that. He picked up the photos.

"They are considering changing the camouflage patterns of our soldiers…these are the proposals."

Greg walked closer to him picking up another photo.

"Just minor in transport hey Love?"

Mycroft shrugged.

"You have never fallen for that."

"True, I fell for you though."


	260. I'm so sick of

17\. I am so sick of

This was the typical manifestation of the quote ' _Water water everywhere, but not a drop to drink'_ Greg took a deep breath. The rain was everywhere, when London decides to rain, it rains…there was water soaked in his coat, on his shirt, his trousers were soaked through, his shoes were wet, and everything was wet. The earth was becoming one big puddle. He realised that an umbrella would probably helped, but then again the umbrella would fail when it comes to his feelings at the moment.

He should get out of the car, it was late, almost one am and he can really do with a hot shower and warm bed. Switching the heating and lights off he glanced to the house, clouded in darkness and rain. No one is home. Great.

Both of them had these past few days, extremely busy days at work, Greg couldn't remember the last time he and Mycroft had breakfast or dinner together, he did know it was more than a week ago.

Greg eyed the distance to the front door and made a quick run to it. Just as he was about to open it, the door was illuminated by lights, he turned to his side to see Mycroft's car pull up. He waited till Mycroft joined him at the door, both smiling wearily and tired at each other.

"Long day too?" Mycroft asked as he took the keys from Greg and opened the door.

"Yeah…" Greg followed him in and they both took off their coats and jackets in the foyer, Greg watched as Mycroft removed his coat, pristine in his movements but exhaustion melting through. Once done they turned and made their way to the kitchen. Neither was hungry but Greg followed him nonetheless.

In the kitchen Mycroft opened one cupboard and took out two tumbler glassed and filled with some dark amber liquid. Greg opened the fridge and sighed at the emptiness reflecting back at him. They haven't had time to do some shopping. They should make a plan.

"We need to talk." Greg spun around to Mycroft who was handing him his glass, his eyes weary. He didn't have the energy for the conversation.

"Okay…" He answered and picked up his glass.

Mycroft opened his mouth several times to start and then his shoulders sagged.

"I'm so sick of this living routine, arrangement whatever you want to call it."

Greg felt the alcohol burning through his entire system and looked down to see if his burning body and soul was leaving scorch marks, nothing so far.

"What?" He finally croaked out. It wasn't happening…it couldn't be…there were no signs…

"This…" Mycroft replied his one hand waving dismissively between them. Greg closed his eyes and put the glass down.

"Right, I'll go pack immediately." Mycroft stood up from where he was leaning against the counter.

"Gregory, what are you talking about?"

"You said you were sick of this, of us, so I'm leaving." Greg wanted to cry, but he was too tired and too weak, he couldn't even pushed Mycroft away as he grabbed onto Greg's wrist as he tried to walk away. Mycroft spun Greg around and pushed him against the wall.

"One day, I will succeed in removing this insecurity and self-doubt you harbour. How can you for one moment think that?"

"You said you were sick of this…and the only 'this' in the room is me."

"I meant my job, and yours, and this ridiculous notion to work such long hours…"

"Oh…"

"Yes…oh…"

"So not me?"

"Never you."

"So….I overreacted…"

"Yes…I'm supposed to be the dramatic one." Greg burst out laughing at that, the tight atmosphere broken. Mycroft smiled and pulled him closer.

"So…tomorrow I think we both will take the day off and discuss our lives together…maybe a holiday…retirement…whatever we feel like."

"Sounds good…"


	261. Missing

18\. Missing

Mycroft realised little by little that a, they either have a thief in the house with very specific taste in what to steal, or b, Greg is on a mission.

It happened one night when Mycroft felt the need to work some overtime, as he couldn't sleep and discovered is laptop power cable gone. It was missing.

He knew it wasn't fully charged nor low on battery but if he works, it would go flat halfway and he would get irritated and frustrated and would need to charge it before he can use it the next day. Only one thing to; do read a book or hold Gregory as he slept. He held Greg.

The next day, the power cable miraculously showed up in his briefcase….

A few days later he wanted to do some paperwork late one evening and discovered his glasses were missing…Mycroft smiled at that. He knew exactly what his partner is doing which meant that he, Mycroft should just go with it.

And he did.


	262. Your mum called

19\. Your mum called

Greg was lounging on the sofa waiting for Mycroft to finish up. They were going to watch a movie, but Mycroft insisted on taking a quick shower and wearing something more comfortable than his suit. Greg said he will get the popcorn and drinks while he waited.

Greg made sure the movie was ready to be played, the popcorn on the table ready to be eaten, the smell drifting through the room. The drinks on the coaster, small droplets around the glass.

The phone ringing brought Greg back to reality and noticed it was Mycroft's. He looked at the screen before answering.

When Mycroft came down Greg was holding the bowl popping a few kernels every few minutes.

"Save some for the movie."

Greg turned around, smiling at Mycroft.

"There will be. Anyway your mum called, she wanted to know when we are going to visit again."

Mycroft sighed and sat down.

"We should probably go next month or something, oh and for the record, she's your mum too…"

Greg smiled widely.

"Yeah, and as the oldest of the children…I'm thinking next weekend, she's making pies."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"It's your favourite…she bribe you with food didn't she."

"Yes. I thought it would be good manners to accept."


	263. Cracked screen

20\. Cracked screen

When the call came, Greg dropped everything and run. He worked a case a few months back; a husband brutally killed his wife and son in a horrible manner. The daughter survived barely and only because help got to them in time. Greg knew the girl was traumatized; she was catatonic for more than a week and was admitted to a facility for mental patients. She was under suicide watch for more than a month.

Greg tried to keep watch on her as much as he could, helping her trying to get her to participate in therapy and whatever he could to help her get over this.

She was doing well, so well.

Until the call.

She couldn't deal with anything anymore and decided she had enough.

When Greg got to the facility he rushed to her room.

She was on the floor; she bit through her wrist and bled out. She was sitting with her back to the door, as to hide what she was doing. When she didn't come out of the room, an orderly went in and found her. Greg felt like crying, he really thought she was making progress. There was a phone next to her and Greg picked it up. The light went on and he choked back a tear. There was a family photo sett as the wallpaper, the screen was broken. Greg looked at the cracked screen, and thought how ironic, the crack separated her from the rest of the family


	264. Pen and paper

21 pen and paper

Anthea stepped into the office and didn't need her training to see something was wrong. The fact that there were two toddlers sitting on a blanket close to the window and a few toys around them was evident enough.

"Sir?"

Mycroft looked up from where he was hunched over on the armchair; he was looking through the diaper bag for something. When he turned around he was holding two small bottles.

"The baby sitter couldn't make it, and since I'm only working half day I brought them to work. Please make sure I don't have any meetings and no one comes in."

"Sure. Do you need anything else?"

"Uhhh yes…let me get a pen and paper I will make you a list."

Anthea nodded and took the two bottles that Mycroft handed over to her, so he could start writing down."

"What about Greg?"

"Ah, yes, get some lunch for him as well, he will most surely show up, to make sure the twins are okay."

Anthea smiled, Greg would come in here, with some fake excuse just to see his family.

She was right; around eleven he showed up, a headache apparently and had the rest of the day off….


	265. Who killed

22\. Who killed…

Greg stared at the body, the second murder in two days. By this rate he will have one for every day of the week. With a longsuffering sigh he looked towards the body and his team doing their jobs. The forensics was nearly done and he Greg couldn't wait to go home. He glanced around the room and then started making his way towards the end of the room, taking a look around. You never know when you might see something.

He started at the one end and walked around towards the bookshelf next to the window, the curtains were drawn up, so he knew the chance of the neighbours seeing anything will be next to nothing.

Greg tilted his head as he looked at the figurines on the shelf and the books, someone was a Where's Waldo fan…a big one.. Greg turned back to the body and tried to hide a smile. He knew the outfit were familiar. The victim was wearing jeans and a red and white jumper, just like Waldo.

Oh…this case is going to be something else. The case of who killed Waldo wannabe…at least someone found him…


	266. Black truffles

23\. Black Truffles

Six weeks. Greg and Mycroft have been in an 'official' relationship for six weeks.

In that six weeks, Greg's world was opened to expensive dinners in expensive restaurants…VIP access to theatre premieres, back stage to any concert of play. One or two…or three weekend trips to different European countries. All expenses paid.

The more they went, the more uncomfortable Greg started to become, in fact the week that Mycroft had to go away for a week, came a bit as a welcome relief. That made him feeling guilty on top of everything. That week alone, allowed Greg to realise exactly what he wants in his life.

Mycroft, on the other hand, was having the time of his life so to speak, he thoroughly enjoyed spoiling Gregory, he never had the opportunity to be with someone like Gregory, nor able to enjoy the finer things in life now that he could finally have someone to share it with. He knew exactly what he wants in his life.

Saturday morning Greg's phone buzzed early. Greg looked at the message.

" **Good morning Gregory. I will be back in London late this afternoon. I was thinking we could have dinner at seven at Coleridge's. Can't wait to see you. MH."**

Greg really really wanted to see Mycroft, but he wished it could be just them without the fancy restaurant and the poshness. Just them. He looked at the message and made his mind up.

" _I'm really glad you would be back soon,_ _however I had a really long da_ _y and I won't be able to make Calridge's this evening. GL."_

Mycroft read the message a couple times, more unsure and uncertain every time. He couldn't deduce Gregory like other people, he didn't want to. The message sounded so ominous that if that was the end of the relationship, he needed to hear it from Greg personally. He picked up his phone and dialled.

Greg saw the incoming call, and answered. Mycroft didn't wait for the greeting he started to talk immediately.

"I understand that I am not in your plans for the evening, can I at least inquire as to why?"

Greg frowned.

"That's not what I said. I said I don't want to go to Claridge's. Listen, we need to talk about this, why don't you come over, I will cook for you, if you want…and we can just be us…" He trailed off, not sure how to say this, how to get the message across. The line was silent before Mycroft answered.

"You and me, in your flat?"

"If you want…"

Mycroft eyes widen as realization hit. It all makes sense now.

"I would be honoured to share dinner with you in your flat. I'll see you tonight."

"Can't wait…come hungry." Greg replied feeling much lighter and more relaxed.

Mycroft was at Greg's precisely at seven. When the door opened Greg was quite surprised to find the man in front of him, gone was the suit, the umbrella and the barrier elite, instead there stood a man, a tall man, with ginger hair, an afternoon stubble around the mouth, dark navy jeans, a grey shirt and black jumper. His hands were wrapped around a bottle of wine, instead of the umbrella. Greg was in awe.

He wordlessly invited him in and Mycroft entered a small smile on his lips. He glanced around the flat before he turned back to Greg.

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable these past few weeks, I got lost in the idea of spoiling you that I never realised I might be taking it too far."

"It wasn't so uncomfortable most of the time, I enjoyed it, you showed me world I never thought I could be part of, I enjoyed the trips, the places I only dreamt to see, the black truffles in Italy, the northern lights…it is great, I just think we should spend some time together without all of that, just us."

Mycroft put the bottle down and pulled Greg closer.

"White truffles…and you're right. I tried so hard to impress you, I was so scared to lose you, and I might have gone overboard."

"It's okay, I felt the same. I don't want to lose you either, so let's make a deal, we talk more openly and enjoy our dinner."

"Agreed. And yes, I'm quite starving."

Greg pulled away and made his way to the kitchen.

"Excuse my humble place…"

"It's perfect. It is lived in; it feels like a home, not a house, unlike mine. You know, my life was so grey before I met you, the most colour I have in my life is my red ties I wear with my suit."

Greg walked over to him and gave him a brief kiss.

"You're perfect to me, and I would just have to help you with colour, we can start by getting you an Arsenal jersey…" Greg burst out laughing seeing Mycroft's expression.

"Yes well…maybe we can start again, the real me, and the real you. Take-away's on the sofa, movie nights and so on…"

"No more fancy restaurants…"

"Sometimes…I will still feel the need to spoil you, but maybe not every night…"

"Being with you is a spoiling in itself, and I feel very lucky to have you in my life."

"Flattery will get you nowhere…"

"Really? I thought I was doing great…"

"Depends on dinner…"

"About that…I haven't done shopping, tell me, you okay with macaroni and cheese?"


	267. Toto

24\. Toto

The wind was howling outside, The Holmes brothers with their partners were sitting in the living room, a Christmas tree with colourful fairy lights giving a rainbow spectrum of light around the room.

Greg rolled the dices in his hands and let them fall on the board.

"Ok…Three."

John picked up a card, reading the words and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock gave his brother a gaze and handed him the card. Mycroft looked at it and turned back at John.

"Three minutes, starting now."

John turned to Greg, pretending to sing.

"Song." John nodded.

John held up four fingers.

"Four words."

John nodded and then started to walk funny and strange along the living room. Greg laughed and held up his hand.

"Got it. It's 'Walk like an Egyptian.'" Mycroft wrote three points on the card, glancing at Greg.

"It's double points if you know the band."

Greg rolled his eyes.

"The Bangles."

"Nice." John exclaimed, giving Greg a high five. Sherlock groaned.

"Well done Graham, now it's our turn and get ready to be defeated." He picked up the dices and rolled. He looked at Mycroft.

"Ten." John and Greg looked at each other. That wasn't good. "Ten points and double if they guess it right too." Greg hoped the card was music, as none of the Holmes brothers were up to date with the musical scene after the Mozart century….Greg watched as Sherlock handed the card to John and John showed him. Well…they might stand a chance…

Sherlock stood up mimicking holding a mick.

"Song." Mycroft replied and Sherlock nodded, holding one finger.

"One word title."

Sherlock stood in the middle of the room and mimed a shooting on the floor.

Mycroft grinned wide.

"Africa. By 'Toto'"

Greg and John stared.

"What?" The asked simultaneously. Sherlock just smirked and Mycroft shrugged. John stood up as well and put all the cards and papers together.

"Well, whatever, I don't want to help Santa with the presents, so I will be saying good night." Mycroft stood up as well and walked over to Sherlock.

"You could have found something different…"

Sherlock smiled.

"It's a game…besides you are the only one that gets it." They shared another look before Sherlock followed John up the stairs to their room. Mycroft turned around and sat down next to Greg who opened his arms immediately.

"You and Sherlock share a lot don't you?"

"He referred to a very dangerous mission I once accomplished in my past, a very long time ago."

"That wasn't very kind."

"He hardly ever is kind…but not to worry, the book on the solar system we got him will provide adequate payback." Greg chuckled softly at that.

"Yeah…it would."


	268. Lover

25\. Lover

The case was difficult, more than normal. Greg took it personally. He could relate. A woman cheating on her husband, the husband oblivious and finding out at a function, surrounded by colleagues and friends…

He was there, at a Christmas party and Sherlock spreading the wonderful news to everyone in the room…what a Christmas present. Greg tried too hard in the past with Sherlock, giving him cases as a present, making sure he doesn't take drugs and Sherlock repaid him by hanging his laundry in the open. Greg didn't try to think too much about it, it is a sensitive subject, but his life did turn out for the better after that. That lead him to his relationship with Mycroft and that was more wonderful than anything he could ever imagine.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Greg jumped at the voice behind him. Mycroft looked at him, a small smile around his mouth. Greg's mood lifted immediately.

"Hey. I was just thinking how I could relate to the husband."

Mycroft picked up the file.

"A hard-working husband, a cheating wife, and a lover on the side."

"Yeah…and how he found out in such public manner."

"Like you?" Greg shrugged.

"You know Gregory, you had made excellent progress with Sherlock, and he may have been insensitive, but he did care…in his own way…"

"Yeah I know…if he didn't I may have never be with you, so it all worked out."

"Indeed…let's go home."

"Yeah…let's go home." Greg took Mycroft's hand and held it a bit tighter than normal as they made their way out.


	269. Up the meds

26\. up the meds

Mycroft looked at Greg, who was sporting the most goofy, most adorable drug induced smile he had ever seen.

"My….cy….you're…so…wow!" Greg stumbled, his eyes bright the morphine. Mycroft sighed.

"Thank you Gregory."

"Welcome…so welcome…"

"You do realize I should be angry with you."

Greg eyes widen his mouth falling in a big 'o'

"Why?"

"Because you went in without waiting for backup, you knew the man was on drugs and yet you tried to arrest him."

"Succeeded…try and voila…and…and…wow, have your eyes always been this blue?" Greg narrowed his eyes and stared intently at Mycroft, who sighed, he wasn't going to get anywhere with this conversation.

"You could have seriously injured."

"As opposed to funnily injured? Or dramatically….oooh…what about comedyly..aly…" Greg rumbled and frowned trying to find the right word.

"Gregory…"

"My name, get your own…hey can they up the meds? It makes the room so beautiful…"

"I think you had enough."

"Urgh..." Greg pulled his face and Mycroft could only smile at that. Things could've been so much worse, and he was quite lucky it didn't end the way it did. Greg had superficial stab wound, but he did lost a bit of blood…too much to Mycroft's liking, but it was over and Greg just need to relax and get better, and hopefully forget this conversation.


	270. Who said what

27\. Who said what?

Greg stood to one corner as he watch the well, it can only be described as a spectacle, a scandal in the making playing out in the middle of the room. He was with Mycroft attending a Transport function – yes appearances had to be maintained and Greg was more than willing to help him.

The night was getting late when a husband became unbelievably drunk and decided to flirt with each and every one he could see, even Greg. Greg luckily made himself scarce as quickly as possible and got out of the way. Mycroft who was talking to a colleague immediately excused himself to make his way over to his partner when the man started to go all crazy and with a nod from Greg got involved by calling the security to resolve the situation as quickly as he could, and with the minimum damage.

After Mycroft got the security he made his way to Greg and stood next to him in the corner, observing it all. They watched as the man was pulled away kicking and screaming yelling obscenities to everyone.

"Who…said what?" He yelled as they passed a small group where two elderly women was whispering to each other.

"Mind your own business you old shrivelling woman!" Greg wanted to go over them, to say something, the gentleman in him refusing to just watch. Mycroft pulled him away and lead him out to the back.

"What a night…." Greg exclaimed as he got into the back of the car, Mycroft following behind.

"Yes. That did turn out unsavoury."

Greg took Mycroft's hand and held it tight.

They drove in silence for a while before Mycroft turned to Greg.

"You know, my mom once said, you must choose your partner wisely, for they represent you, I never understood until now, and I think I can safely say that I choose very wisely."


	271. Wine or whine

28\. Wine or whine

Greg was having the time of his life; he and Mycroft had the afternoon off, a Friday nonetheless and decided to go to a wine and cheese tasting. Greg always wanted to go, but never had the chance or the right companion and with Mycroft…well, it might just be destiny or whatever. Mycroft seemed pleased with the idea, the wine yes…the cheese…not so much. It's not that he doesn't like cheese…it is well…cheeses are diary…fat…carbs…and all that…

The afternoon was filled with laughter and fun, both men having the time of their lives. Mycroft develop a new love for certain wines, already making plans to have a few bottles imported. Greg loved the cheeses and was making plans on how to convince Mycroft to eat more when he buys it for them; luckily he is a resourceful man and quite creative.

There was one fly in the ointment of their afternoon. A guy who couldn't stop complaining about…literally everything…Greg was getting fed up with it. Slowly but surely, but Mycroft kept pulling him away.

"It's getting to you too." Greg whispered.

"Yes, but I am not going let it bother me, I've dealt with much worse."

Greg nodded at that.

It was nearing to the end when the man loudly exclaimed his dislike for a certain cheese when Greg mumbled loud enough for a few bystanders to hear.

"Would you like wine or whine with that?"

The women next to him started laughing.

"You'd think with all this wine, it would have improved him somewhat?"

Mycroft took a sip and looked at hear.

"I think, even the wine is would like to be more alcohol infused about now."


	272. Escalator

29\. Escalator

Greg eyed the constructions workers outside the Tube with disdain. He wanted to go home and thought the Underground would be faster but the evidence in front of him suggested otherwise. He walked towards the entrance and peered in, it was crowded, very much so that without thinking twice he turned around and walked away. The fresh air would be much more welcomed at the moment.

By the time he got home he was relaxed and had the dinner plans all worked out. Mycroft would be home at seven, giving him more than enough time to have a quick shower and finish dinner.

By the time Mycroft came home the table was set, there was candles burning, the wine was breathing, just like he taught Greg and the smells were wonderful.

"Hello Gregory."

"Hi Love." Greg greeted him with a kiss, his bare feet soft on the carpet and his drawstring trousers low on his hips. Mycroft thought this was the best picture in the entire world to come home to.

"It smells wonderful."

"Yeah well, I walked home, there's some stuff going on at the Underground so I had time to plan all this."

"They're renovating the escalators."

Greg gave him a look and Mycroft shrugged.

"Yeah well, do you want to have a quick shower before dinner or dinner first?"

"I thing dinner first, then we can go upstairs."

"Perfect."


	273. Hangnail

30\. Hangnail

One of the first…okay second…fine fine…several things that assaulted his senses and tornado'd his life into a whole new atmosphere were Mycroft's hands. The smooth skin, dotted with freckles, like the dappled light of the sunrise through the trees. The fingers were long and well cared for, even his nails were manicured, not even a hint of a hangnail. Greg would bet his salary, his hands didn't even understand the concept of a hangnail.

The more they started to spend time together, the more he was fascinated by everything that man was made off, he learned all about that hands, about the fingers and the way it could move, the way certain taps meant different things. How his fingers and hands can be read by the way he moved his face. It was beautiful.

Right now?

It was even more beautiful because right now, Greg just added an accessory. A wonderful shiny new round accessary that compliments the finger and the whole hand.

"Gregory…." Greg looked up from the hand to the sparkling eyes.

"You're staring at my hand."

"It's a nice hand." Mycroft chuckled and the people around them too.

"We should go on with the ceremony." Mycroft stated.

"Yeah…the kissing part..." Greg replied with wonder and he could hear Sherlock groan behind his husband…or soon to be as soon as the kissing and declaration part is done. He didn't care.

Mycroft couldn't be bothered, he was waiting for the kiss too…and the whole life ahead.


	274. Angels

1 Angels

Greg eyed the package with a frown, his little niece's birthday was in a week and his sister sent him a picture of a necklace she really wanted. Greg had it under good authority – Sally – that if he buys it for her he will be the coolest uncle ever.

He opened the package and took out the small box.

"It's here?" Greg looked up to the door to see both Sally and Mycroft standing in the doorway.

"Yeah…"

Sally jumped up in excitement and walked closer.

"Open it."

Greg eyed Mycroft, both not understanding the excitement in Sally.

"You are also in the fandom aren't you?" Mycroft asked.

"Fandom?" Greg asked confused. Mycroft nodded and walked closer.

"That's the term."

Sally nodded.

"Yup…I'm a fangirl for Supernatural, and this necklace is awesome, Sophie is going to love this, since it's Cas she obviously got taste too." The men stared at her in confusion. She sighed.

"Cas is the angel, the only one worth knowing, Gabriel was okay, but he is dead…and the other angels…well…"

"Sally…" Greg tried, somehow feeling his age.

"Watch it…"

Greg opened the box to see what the fuss was about and had to admit, the necklace was cute, small silver angel wings and a trench coat charm hanging in the middle. He gave a small smile, hoping that this little necklace does indeed make him the coolest uncle ever.


	275. Hunger

2\. Hunger

Greg sat in the small cell, he couldn't find a better word for the small room, a small window against the wall was the only indicator of day's passing from day to night. He is unsure of how long he has been here only that it has been more than a few days. He hated it.

Whoever took him, knew what they were doing, he tried to look for a way out, but there was none. The door opened and locked from the outside, and there was no reason for him to go out. He had a bed, and a small cubicle in one corner where there was a toilet and basin. Nothing else, he didn't need anything else.

The last thing he remembered was that he was working a case, and got a lead that led him to an abandoned house on the outskirts of London.

He would get two small meals a day, enough to keep him alive, but not enough to fill him up satisfactory. He would also get two bottles of water a day, and that was it.

Greg eyed the window again, he wondered if anyone knew he was missing. He and Mycroft had a small disagreement and Mycroft went on to who knows where for a few days. Usually when Mycroft goes away like this, he hardly looks at his phone, and since the fight he would probably gather that the lack of texts is Greg's idea of a silent treatment. He hoped not.

His fingers tightened around the bottle of water, he missed home, he missed coffee, he missed real food. He sighed and closed his eyes. Even the hunger pains faded some time ago, and he knows, that is never a good sign.


	276. Horses

3\. Horses

Greg looked at the animal in front of him with some trepidation.

"You know it can feel your anxiety?" Greg turned to Mycroft holding two helmets.

"Yeah, I read that…we don't have to wear those do we?" He asked pointed to the helmets.

"Yes, it is a safety requirement, I already let you persuade me not to wear the whole uniform, but on the helmets I won't budge…"

Greg sighed.

"Yeah I know, I'm okay with that, if I wore a police helmet for a gazillion years I can do it here in the country."

Mycroft walked closer, ignoring the horses next to them.

"I bet you looked dashing in your police uniform, and would even look more dashing in this."

"You're such a flatterer." Greg smiled as he leaned up to give him a kiss. Mycroft pulled him closer and kissed him back using the opportunity to put the helmet on Greg's head.

"Come on." He whispered as he pulled away.

"Okay, let's do this, just so you know, if my thighs chaffed and hurt when this is over you're taking care of it."

Mycroft gave him the wicked smile he could muster.

"Don't worry I will kiss it all better."


	277. Candy wrapper

 

4\. Candy wrapper

Greg knew he did the right thing when he bought one of those candy packets with a variety of sweets and gave it to Mycroft.

"What do you expect me to do this?" Mycroft had asked.

Greg smiled at him and replied.

"When you're sitting for hours at your desk, saving the world, every now and then you can reward yourself with a sweet."

Mycroft just stared at him as if he was speaking some language he never heard off.

But now…

Greg was meeting Mycroft for lunch but Mycroft was out and Greg waited in his office. Something caught his eye next to the desk and when he looked it was a small bright pink candy wrapper. Mycroft missed the basket and it fell next to it on the ground. Greg picked it up, his heart swelling with pride and love.

He knew Mycroft can be as stubborn as he wanted, but sometimes everyone needs just a small something to brighten their day.

The pink cherry flavoured sweets turned out to be Mycroft's favourite, he even started to take certain flavours at certain times, and Lime was for important meetings. Orange was for when he was meeting with ambassadors. Pineapple was for when he was meeting Sherlock. Cherry was for when he thought of Greg.


	278. Time

5\. Time

Mycroft was having a very bad day; he and Sherlock had a few words, all of them unpleasant and unsavoury, his meeting with the ambassadors didn't go as planned and on top of that, even his parents decided to have a go at him.

The only light point at this moment in time was Greg.

Greg understood. Greg gave him one look and pulled him into a tight hug and haven't leg go for several minutes. Greg who took charge, made sure Mycroft had something to eat, even a small piece of cake for dessert and then a nice long hot bath to relax him.

After that Greg pulled him close into his arms and held him close as they talked about their day, about their tomorrows about their plans and just about all random things.

Mycroft fell asleep to the soothing sound of Greg's voice in his ear, telling him everything would be okay, that tomorrow things would look better, that he is loved, loved beyond words and actions. That he is treasured and that Greg would always love him with every fibre.

Mycroft held him tighter and slept well.


	279. To do

6\. To do

Greg stood next to Mycroft as he closed the zip on the suitcase. His heart happy and light and the smile infectious.

"There…done…" Mycroft said as he turned back to Greg. He was saving the packing to the last minute so Greg pulled him up to the bedroom and went 'pack'. This was their first official holiday as a couple. They had weekend breaks yes, but this…this was three weeks of just them…on holiday…both were extremely excited.

"Great." Greg replied pulling Mycroft close into a hug. Mycroft went like a soft ball of clay, forming himself against Greg.

"I know there's still so much to do before we leave tomorrow, but I can't wait." Greg smiled at Mycroft's words, yes they still needed to make a few arrangements, sort out some stuff, but the main is that both have taken off from work, no interruptions, no emergencies…come tomorrow morning they will get on a plane and kick London down for the next three weeks.

"Me too Love…me too."


	280. A lost key

7\. A lost key

Greg had been struggling to keep his laughter and amusement to the minimum, the faces Mycroft was making and the way he kept looking around him was so different from the usual manner in which he observed his surroundings.

"You okay there?"

Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, I am fine."

"You sure?"

"I'll admit this is something new, and I find it quite revolutionary."

"Didn't you ever went to the cinema as kid, bought popcorn and snacks and walk into the theatre with your shoes sticking to the floor and watch a movie?"

Mycroft pulled a face and immediately glanced down to his shoes; Greg couldn't keep the smirk away.

"No…my theatre experiences were quite different than what you are describing…"

"I bet, instead of action movies, making out with partners in the back row…you had…drama and symphonies…"

"You made out with people?" Mycroft asked, glaring at Greg.

"Out of all that, that's what you're taking out?"

"Yes."

"I was sixteen…"

"What was her name?"

"Maggie….Something…"

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought about it and Greg stopped him immediately.

"No…you are not going to waste a minute on her, you are going to be here with me and enjoy the movie, and if you are naughty I might make out with you…"

"What movie is it?"

"'A lost key' based on a book, it's about treasure hunting…

"Sounds boring, you will have to keep my entertained."

Several people turned around at once when Greg burst out laughing, making no attempt to be quiet. Mycroft looked at him with a straight face unperturbed just the small sparkle in his eyes a giveaway.


	281. Feathers

8\. Feathers

Greg sagged, no melted into the mattress if he was butter.

"Oh…this…" He moaned as he twisted his head to be more comfortable. Mycroft let go and sat upright.

"Gregory…" The whine was evident.

It was not every day that you try to take your partner to bed and he got caught in the bed linen.

"Sorry Love…but this is so soft…what is it?" Greg asked his hands caressing the sheet. Mycroft narrowed his eyes and picked up Greg's hand and put it back on his leg.

Greg chuckled softly.

"No need to be jealous…you're still my favourite."

"I better be, don't pay so close attention to my bedding."

"Okay…it's real Egyptian cotton with angel feathers and unicorn kisses…."

Greg played and returned his attention to the man on top of him, pulling him closer for a kiss. Mycroft melted against him making sure the man forgets all about his bed linen.

When Mycroft woke up, it was to find himself being cuddled tightly against Greg, Greg himself was comfortable, his legs tangled between the sheets, his head on the pillow, looking very relaxed and at home. Mycroft knew his bed and linen were expensive and good quality, but the man was worth more, so much more.


	282. Phones

9 phones

Greg eyed the thunder outside before glancing back at the desk; a small gas lamp was casting long shadows over the ancient wooden desk. The phone was perched on the one corner, quiet and a reminder of how isolated Greg was in this place. A small guesthouse in the middle of nowhere for a case, he didn't sign up. Great.

"I'm sorry sir, all the phones are still off, and it is common in these parts, especially when there's a storm like this."

Greg looked at the old man behind the desk and sighed. It wasn't his fault.

"It's okay; I take it all the power is off, only gas lamps working?"

"Yes sir."

Great, he can't even charge his phone, maybe if he charged through the car, but there is no way he is going out in this weather. Lightning flashes and cracked somewhere close, the whole foyer lighted up for a second. Greg felt a chill down his spine; this is the perfect set up for some B-rated horror movie.

"Um, well…I um... will wait this out in my room, reading my notes."

"I'll send up some brandy, it will keep you warm on a night like this."

"Thank you."

With a tight smile Greg made his way to his room, cursing himself for allowing the strange sounds and creepy hallways to freak him out. If Mycroft was here, he would feel so much better.


	283. Fire

10 fire

Greg's fingers played absentmindedly with the glass in his hand, the amber liquid making small amber rainbows in the glass as the light caught it. The fire was cracking as it burned through the logs, relaxing him even more.

He felt a stirring in his side and looked down; Mycroft was putting his glass on the small table, before drawing himself closer into Greg's side.

"We should go to bed." Greg whispered, not wanting to break the silence.

"Hmm..." Mycroft didn't even bother to answer, just a small groan and a small wave of a finger. Greg smiled; he loved seeing Mycroft so relaxed and comfortable. They don't get this enough.

In response Greg pulled him closer and the side of his head.

"A little while longer."


	284. Rehab

11\. Rehab

Greg looked up from where the body was laying on the ground. He somehow looked familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly to where and when, just a niggling feeling in the back of his mind.

It was only later the afternoon when he was back at the office with the victim's file in front of him that he remembered.

It was about four years ago when he visited Sherlock in the hospital after another OD stunt and the threat of rehab over his head. The victim was talking to Sherlock and Greg, he was some sales man and he was causing a bit of a scene. The only reason Greg remembered was that Sherlock in his state, told the man's entire life story and that he was sleeping with the doctor who was in charge of Sherlock's health.

That caused the doctor to get into trouble with the board and Mycroft had to step in and Greg realised that day that he had some emotions towards Sherlock's brother that he should try his best to hide.

Greg sighed and closed the file. All these years, now he and Mycroft are in a relationship and the sales man is dead. What a world, Greg knew how one moment is sometimes all it takes for the world to change.

In all honesty, he is quite glad the path his life took him.


	285. My BFF

12\. My BFF

Sherlock glared at both Greg and Mycroft, anyone else would just walk away slowly and think of ways to get in his good books. Not Greg and Mycroft, Mycroft was staring at him with the air of nonchalance that only comes with years and years of dealing with him. Greg, well he just shrugged and took another sip of the drink in his hand.

Sherlock stalked towards them.

"My dearest brother, take your BFF and leave…"

"My BFF?" Mycroft, showing the first sign of confusion.

Greg stepped up.

"I got this Love…." He turned to Sherlock.

"Were leaving, we have a very long night ahead." Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled a face. Greg starts to laugh and pulled Mycroft with him to the door.

They stood on the pavement.

"Gregory, what the hell does BFF mean?"

"Best Friends Forever….technically I think that's John and Sherlock, we…are more awesome than that…"

"I'm not sure I understand, but I agree with the awesome idea."

Greg laughed at that and opened the car door that stopped next to him. Mycroft climbed in with Greg following behind.

The car door closed with a soft click.

"You do realise he is going to hold it against you." Greg said as he looked back at Mycroft. Mycroft shrugged.

"Probably, but I have you and we are awesome."


	286. Unwritten

13\. Unwritten

Greg stood in the doorway of the room, his body resting against the frame. Mycroft was hunched over, signing papers and reading documents, his glasses perched on his nose, his nose buried deep in work. Greg smiled and continued to stare.

"I am aware of your presence Gregory." Mycroft said, not even bothering to look up.

"Okay…"

"Are you planning to stare the whole night?"

"Well, the view is spectacular…" Greg replied and smirked as Mycroft looked up at that, his pen in his hand. Greg gave him a small wink.

Mycroft was about to say something when he noticed what Greg was holding.

"Is that…a cassette player?"

Greg looked down to the player in his hand and looked back at him.

"Yup, my old one…found it in a box and guess what? It still plays. Awesome."

Greg walked closer and sat opposite the desk, putting the player on the desk. Mycroft was just in time to shift the papers out of the way. Now that the player was in eyesight he looked closer.

"Is there a cassette inside?"

Greg looked even more chuffed than normal.

"Yes, I remember Sally just started and we had these old cop cars, the radio irritated her, so she made a tape with the latest music on, old and new. There was this one song from Natasha Bedingfield called 'unwritten' hell, she would sing it nonstop, calling it her 'psych up song for the day' I once threatened her with traffic duty after she sang it one time to many." Mycroft sat back and watched the joy cross his face as he spoke, he could just imagine it.

"Is it a good song?" He asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you spoke of the song with a hint of fondness and sentimentality."

"Yeah…course you picked up on it…I liked it, come on, I'm going to play it for you." Greg reached over and pressed play, the song started and Greg sat back, already singing along. Mycroft would never admit it, but this would always be one of his fondest memories of Gregory.


	287. The law

14 the law

Greg stood in the middle of the street, the yellow tape acting as a big protective circle around him, keeping him safe and the world out. The world being the traffic, there were now cars, traffic, pedestrians rush hour nothing in this circle, just him and the body, well…and the forensic guys doing their jobs. Sometimes Greg struggled to make peace with his job, especially in situations like this. A young girl without her seatbelt was lying on the bonnet of the car, the mom was crying hysterically on the other side of the street in the ambulance. Her car hit another car straight on and the force….well, gravity and a girl's weight was not made for a maths class.

He sighed as he looked around, the mom will be arrested for murder, involuntary manslaughter that is the law, no two ways about it. This will haunt her for the rest of her life; he wished he could offer her some kind of comfort, but cant. There is nothing he can do.

He really hates his job sometimes.

Something caught his eyes and he turned his head, a black car, inconspicuous to one side Greg could smile of gladness, he could feel some of the pain lifting up as he knew Mycroft was close…he would understand.

He can do this.


	288. Calm

15\. Calm

Greg was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his arms folded and his attention on the man in front of him. The man so angry apparently that he wasn't taking the greatest care in undressing himself.

Yes, Mycroft had a bad day and is taking it out on his clothes.

"Can you believe it? Invite that man over to the palace?" Mycroft voice was loud as he took of his waistcoat and flung it to one side; Greg stepped up and caught it before it fell to the floor.

"It's ridiculous Love."

"That's my point…The Queen better exhibit her right to cut of his head or order his head to be removed, she still has that power, I should tell her to do it…." Mycroft forced out as he took off his trousers and socks, also flinging that to one side.

"The audacity of that uneducated barbarian! To come to our dignified country demanding things left and right…." Greg nodded trying to keep his face neutral, fact is, he enjoyed this little side of Mycroft, ranting about work, he had no idea who wants to invade England apparently but Mycroft not keen on that happening.

"Love, just relax."

"Relax? No my dearest, not going to relax when that whatever excuse for a man is ten thousand miles from our beloved England, and the Queen? Very eager to get out her claws and take him on…I can assure you that…" Mycroft explained as the last of his clothes were off, in some heap on the floor and Mycroft opening the shower faucet with a wide spray of water.

"Okay, Love…just calm down, imagine washing your anger off with every drop of water and soap to be replaced by love and tenderness…." Mycroft spun around glaring at Greg who was immune to the look; instead he just smiled and slowly undressed.

"Gregory…."

"Read that on a poster today…thought it would help."

"It isn't."

"I can see that, guess I just have to get in there and calm you myself."

"I wouldn't be oppose to that." Mycroft replied the hint of a smile around his lips, his one hand already out to pull Greg in.


	289. Tears

16\. Tears

Comfort? Sometimes there's no comfort to give to someone who lost everything. Greg had no idea how you even begin to tell someone that it would be okay? That time heals everything. He has been a cop for too long, and has seen things that don't make that statement true.

The gravestones stood like marble trees out of the green grass, each one with a declaration of its own: "See me. Remember me." With a shock he realised that somewhere in this cemetery is Sherlock's tombstone, well his fake one anyway.

"Amen" The preacher ended his sermon and there were a slight chorus of 'amen' around him. He looked towards the mother shuffling over the grass, her eldest son was holding her upright as she walked towards him, her tears shining in the sunlight. He cleared his throat.

"Ms Hatley."

"Detective…I want to say thank you for being here, I know you didn't had too, but you did, you caught the man who killed my daughter, and you made sure I got her back to lay her down to rest."

Greg smiled softly, he couldn't say anything, and he didn't know what to say.

She reached out her hand and he took it, she reaches with her other hand and closed it around his.

"Thank you."

"Thank you." He finally whispered back.


	290. Dead leaves

17\. Dead leaves

Greg opened the curtains and gave one look to the garden before he pulled a face and shut it closed again. He turned back to the bed and nodded to himself before he walked over to the bed and climbed back in and pulled Mycroft closer. He was still half asleep, his hair a mess, but Greg loved it.

"Why did you close the curtains?" The sleepy voice asked.

"Because there's nothing out there that interests us, we can stay the whole day in bed."

Mycroft turned around as to look at the man in his bed, still half asleep as well. He gave Greg one look.

"The yard is full of dead leaves, meaning autumn is here and you don't want to face the fact that soon it would be winter and you need to layer up."

"But why My…." The whine sounded deep in the room.

"Let's fly south for the winter…sunny days…."

"We're not geese."

"I don't want to wear all the layers, and it is cold…."

Mycroft shifted so that he was leaning over Greg.

"This winter you have something new…"

"Yeah…what?"

"Me…and I will keep you warm."

Greg smiled mischievously .

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"I think I will give winter a chance this year."


	291. Tunnels

18\. Tunnels

Greg swept his arm across his forehead for the umpteenth time, the humidity down below was high and uncomfortable. He glanced at his watch, an hour, he only has been stuck down here for an hour and already if felt like ten…in a sauna.

The tunnels were dark and creepy and he had to use all his sense to keep it. There was an anonymous call about a dead body in these tunnels and he was the lucky one to be on call, right now he felt anything but lucky. The only thing they could make out was that it was a young voice, maybe a teenager. He was going to need one hell of a long shower when he was done with this.

"Anything?" He asked softly but his voice still carried through the underground. It was one of the old part of the tunnels, no more in use, back the old days.

"Getting close." The answer came back. Greg turned to Sally who looked just as bad as he did.

"I'm telling you; whoever hid a body this deep in the tunnel has got some completely twisted sense of humour."

Greg agreed.

"Yeah, or he wasn't counting on a young teenager on some search mission."

"Yeah, probably some prank, or teenagers daring each other to do stuff."

"I miss the days where I was dared to skateboard down some stairs." Greg muttered as they walked deeper.

"Here we go." Anderson called from the front. Greg stepped closer and true enough, there was dead body laid on the tracks, bound and dead. A bullet in his chest. He sighed.

"Okay, quick and thorough and then we get out of here." Back to a shower…and a cold beer…


	292. Change

19\. Change

Mycroft looked over the yard; the sun was setting and casting long shadows. The truth was out, the big family secret was known. His parents were not talking to him at the moment, Sherlock was the grown up, the responsible one apparently and as much as that hurt Mycroft washed his hands off it all, he spend years and years trying to keep everything together and it was in vain. He lifted his glass and took another sip of his whiskey, on the table was another glass, half empty, Greg went to check on dinner and he could hear him in the background. He was okay, not fine or great or happy, but he would be, right now, he was okay. With the help of Greg he was able to overcome this traumatic experience.

"Hey Love, what's on your mind?" Mycroft turned to Greg who kissed him on the side of the head. Mycroft looked at him and smiled, the real one, the one he reserves for Greg.

"I was just thinking about the change my life underwent since I met you." Mycroft replied and took another sip. Greg smiled and sat down on the chair next to him. The glass in his hand.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I would have coped with this, with everything if it wasn't for you."

"It will work out, it will take time, but it will be okay, you know?"

"Yeah, but if it doesn't, that's okay too." Mycroft replied and Greg frowned.

"What?"

"Gregory, I have sacrificed my entire life for this family, for all of them, and none of them gave the same curtesy to me, if my parents never forgive me, that's fine, I withdrew most of the security and surveillance on Sherlock too, from now on I am doing what I should've done a long time ago, let them go on with their lives without my interruption. From now on it's me and you, I can't lose you, and I won't put myself in the situation to lose you."

Greg stared at him and that was confirmation enough that he was right, it will be okay, it will all be okay. He reached out and took Mycroft's hand. Squeezing tightly. They will be okay.


	293. A wish

20 A wish

Greg and Mycroft had a rare afternoon off and took a walk in the park close to their home. It was a nice summer's day and Greg managed to convince Mycroft that it would be fun to take a walk and even have some dinner afterwards. It was wonderful and relaxing, walking hand in hand down the pathways observing people and families, a few brought their dogs and children were playing. Mycroft loved it, it is not something he sees every day, in fact, he hardly sees this part of London, this part of life but with Greg came this part, the 'live' part of life, not just life and breathing.

"Oh look dandelions." Greg smiled and pointed to a small bush of dandelions waving slighting in the breeze.

"You do realise they are weeds right?" Mycroft asked as he allowed Greg to lead him to it. Greg let go of his hand and grouched down to pick one up.

"Gregory what are you doing?"

"Come on make a wish."

"It's a weed. It has no relevance…"

"Shhh…don't be one of the people that sees the weed Love, be one of those that sees the wish." Mycroft rolled his eyes; it was clear which one Greg was.

"Gregory."

"Please, make a wish…for me."

Mycroft took a breath and took the dandelion from Greg's hands, he turned with his back to the wind and held the weed upright, he glanced once at Greg who nodded and smiled before Mycroft closed his eyes and wished before he blew….


	294. A blind date

21\. A blind date

Greg was walking through the market holding a small basket with all the goodies and stuff he had bought. Mycroft was in a meeting close by and would be busy for at least another hour and then he would meet Greg and they would go for dinner. So Greg had some time to kill and decided on spending it on crafts and stuff he didn't really need but just had to buy. Why, he wouldn't be able to tell you.

He was nearly done when his eye caught a big black board with chalk writing, he stepped closer "Don't judge a book by its cover, have a blind date with a book."

"Well that sounds interesting." Greg spun around to see Mycroft standing there.

"Hey…thought you're still stuck in a meeting?"

"I was, it ended a few minutes ago." Mycroft replied and turned to the basket with all the stuff.

"Wait, an hour has passed, already? Wow I must have lost track of time."

"I can see that, so you want to go through the bookstore?"

"With an invitation like that, yeah, sounds like fun, come on." Mycroft shook his head slightly and followed Greg inside, he must admit, the whole set up was marvellous and would make the whole experience.

They made their way to the first shelf; the books were wrapped with just a few keywords on its cover.

Greg immediately picked up one with the words 'missing woman' and Mycroft' hand reached for 'Political Satire' Greg rolled his eyes when he saw that.

"You can't deduce the real title can you?"

"Actually I can't…it's quite refreshing." Mycroft replied with a happily.

"Good so take it then."

"I think I will."

They went through all the shelves, Greg picking up books with 'satire' and 'oops accidental murder' while Mycroft went for 'existential philosophy' and 'memoir of cabinet meetings' it was clear that even without titles they still have their taste.

With a basket full and several books they made their way to the counter to pay for it, both smiling happily and excited to open the books.


	295. Dinner

22\. Dinner

Mycroft and Greg sat at the table; a small oil lamp was casting light on the table, long shadows and giving the aura of romance…which was the whole point of tonight. Mycroft finally found the guts and courage from places unknown and asked Greg out to dinner. Greg agreed instantly.

Now here they were, a small yet comfortable restaurant, overlooking the Thames and the London Eye, the sun was setting warmly and with golden tones over the water. There was soft music playing and every table was situated in such a way that they had their privacy. Two wine glasses was on the table, a deep red that made dark shadows on the linen. The food was delicious Greg negotiated that if he eats a light meal with Mycroft, Mycroft had to share dessert with him. Mycroft couldn't say no…He tried but then Greg would tilt his head, give him a shy smile, his brown eyes would dance like brandy in a crystal glass when the light touched it and Mycroft would crumble…Mycroft was quite alarmed by how quickly he surrendered and agreed. Ice never stood a chance against eyes filled with fire.

"So dessert…" Greg trailed of after their plates were taken away and the wine glasses were nearly empty and the bottle…well that was empty.

"I'm still trying how you convince me Gregory…" Mycroft smiled. Greg tried to look thoughtful but just gave him his puppy dog look.

"You don't?"

"Gregory…"

"It's my one chance to impress you and to make sure we go one a second date, I will pull out all the stops…looks, smiles…gestures….flirting…."

"You want to go out with me again?" Mycroft asked a bit confused, the night was going well, but it wasn't over yet and already Greg made it clear he wants more.

"Yes…definitely…I want to see you again, I'll be honest I envision us taking walks along the river, I want to take you to all my favourite places, I want to see you relax and have fun, I know this is probably a bit quick and making you uncomfortable…"

"It's not…I….I would like to do that with you…I'll admit I was thinking how you would enjoy a play with me…or a concert…"

"Yeah? So were both envisioning this between us to go further?"

Mycroft could only nod. Greg's smile turned up a few watts.

"That definitely cause for desert…"


	296. Mother in law

23\. Mother in law

Greg was furious; in fact he could punch something or someone. He just watched his husband, the strong Mycroft have a look of utter destruction in his eyes and he knew his dear mother in law was responsible for that. He couldn't remember the last time he was so blinded with anger.

He may not know what was said, but Anthea filled him in on most of it and Greg saw red, blinking neon light red. How dare she break her son like this? How could she cut her son to the core like that? In all of the years he knew Mycroft, he had never, not once seen him so defeated so broken like he did in that moment.

She exalted her other son with the ruination of her eldest. She compared the two, then again she always did and Mycroft always always drew the short straw. Greg wondered if some days there was even a straw for him to draw. Yes he made mistakes, yes his methods were unconventional but at the end of the day, he did something, he stood up when his whole family was falling apart, he did it alone, and that…that is saying something.

Taking a deep breath Greg walked into Mycroft's office, which didn't even look up. Greg closed the door and walked towards him he stood in front of Mycroft and reached down, taking the hands that was somehow cold and pulled him up so he was standing. Mycroft avoided his eyes but Greg cupped Mycroft's cheeks with his hand.

"Look at me." Mycroft slowly lifted his eyes to look at Greg.

"Gr…" Mycroft tried.

"I love you, and to me, you're still amazing, everything you do, but most importantly everything you are." Mycroft hands tighten on his hips and Greg pulled him into a hug, holding him as tight as he could. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg, buried his head in his neck and slowly his body started to shake with sobs.


	297. January

24 January

Greg was going through pamphlet after magazine to no avail. Mycroft walked in with a frown, seeing Greg so deep in thought.

"Gregory, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find something that I can give your brother for his birthday."

"January is not for another few months…" Mycroft replied as he walked over to where Greg was sitting.

"I know, but I was thinking if I get something he might like I can order it in advance…you know how busy we can get."

"True…so what are you thinking of getting him?"

"No idea…his scarf is looking a bit worn…I'm thinking a new one…in a new colour…" Greg replied with a wicked smirk, Mycroft frowned; his dear partner had something in mind.

"A specific colour?" He asked as he made his way over to sit next to him.

"Yeah…what colour would you describes John's eyes…"


	298. Cables

25\. Cables

Greg thought it strange that all of a sudden Mycroft wanted to accompany him when he was running his errands. It all started a week ago after Greg's picture was in the newspapers…and the news…and all over social media. People really have too much time with their cameras these days.

Greg started to smile as he added one and one.

A week ago Greg was walking over the millennium bridge when he saw a man looking around before he got on top of the railing, his hands holding on to the cables. Greg reacted on instinct and managed to save his life before he could jump, so naturally there was videos and pictures and somehow a reported dug up old photos of him in his younger years and his uniform.

Greg felt like he was under a microscope, he didn't need some exposé on his life. The thing was, he has been receiving a lot of looks from women and men…as he appeared in public. He went to the store the other day and a ten minute run turned into a thirty minute one. That has when Mycroft decided to go with him. Greg started laughing at himself, it made sense now, even the excuses he would make: "Oh, I wanted to see what new marmalades they have for my toast…" or the "I heard there's a new wine they imported, I want to see if they have it…"

Greg looked down to see he was wearing his dark jeans and a button down that he knows he looked good in, he unbuttoned the top button before he picked up his wallet.

"Oh Love, I'm just popping to Tesco's for some biscuits, won't be long."

He could hear Mycroft making his way to the foyer.

"I'll come with you, it is such a nice day and I thought we could maybe get some dinner too?" Greg saw through the nonchalant attitude. He knew it was irrational of Mycroft to be jealous, but on the other hand it made him feel good, that Mycroft felt like that towards him. That someone is proud to be with him.

"Brilliant, some wine and dessert?"

"Dessert…"

"I'm thinking strawberries….chocolate and whipped cream…"

"That's a wonderful idea…"

Greg knew that under normal circumstances Mycroft would put up a fuss, but that romantic food, in a basket, with both of them…clear as daylight that Detective Inspector Lestrade is taken.


	299. Dehydration

26\. Dehydration

 

Mycroft was watching the Prime Minister walk out of his office; the meeting did not go well as he had hoped, but it was okay, the PM will get around, they always do, the thing was he was a bit tired with the power play they wanted to play before they will admit he knows better.

 

He took a deep breath before he rubbed his temples, it was early and he was already developing a headache.

 

Bzzzzz

 

He looked to his phone, an incoming text…if it was another crisis…..

 

"Weakness and fatigue

 Headaches and migraines

 Impatience and irritability

 What do I have?

 A.Dehydration

 B.Concussion

 C. None of the above"

 

Mycroft frowned, what on earth. He typed back his letters appearing below Greg's bubble of text.

 

"Gregory, are you okay? What is going on?"

 

"Hi Love I'm fine, we have to do a short mulitichoice and I'm bored…we have our updated CPR course today and First aid classes, apparently we will write a little test…."

 

"And you're asking me for the answer?"

 

"Nope, I was bored so I thought I would show you an example of what I can expect for the day."

 

"My poor poor Detective."

 

"I know. If only I had something to distract me….shall we discuss our evening plans? "

 

"No, you need to concentrate and our plans always become a bit…."

 

"Explicit…."

 

"Yes. Do you know the answer?"

 

"Do you?"

 

"C…dealing with the Prime Minister"

 

"Hahaha….nice…guess the meeting didn't go as planned."

 

"No."

 

"I will kiss it better tonight…promise…oh it's A for Mycroft the most Amazing Awesome partner."

 

Mycroft laughed softly, his headache easing slightly, he wanted a distraction, and he got one, a wonderful one.

 

 


	300. Battles

27\. Battle

The battle was set, the players ready and the spectators waiting in anticipation.

It was supposed to be a simple night of just having a drink or two and relaxing together without incident. Mycroft and Sherlock promised they would try to behave and that was as much as Greg and John could hope for. That is until John and Greg started trading war stories, more importantly drinking games and they both knew the 'Battleship' version of battle shots, as one they turned their gaze to their beer and then to each other.

Ten minutes later the kitchen table was set up, Mycroft and Sherlock was busy in some deduction game or stare or something and didn't realise till their audience disappeared. They looked around the living room before.

"Where's Gregory?"

"John's gone too." As one they got up and made their way to the kitchen where laughter could be heard.

"What on earth is going on?" Mycroft asked as he looked at the scene, the kitchen table in his – no their – house was filled with the two empty pizza carton boxed, there was lines drawn on it and with one row of numbers, the other letters.

"Hi Love; John and I are about to play battle shots…it's a cool game." The brother's watch as John was splitting Mycroft's expensive shot glasses in half and filling them with beer, and whiskey.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he stepped closer, more confused than his brother. John looks to Greg.

"They should play…."

"Ooohhhhh." Greg eyes widen and turned to the two brothers. He was smiling and nodding.

"Excuse me? We should what?" Mycroft asked the question both he and Sherlock was dying to ask.

"Battle shots…" They declared at once. There was no time to argue; when the brothers were aware they were sitting at the table opposite one another, both Greg and John next to them explaining the rules to them. Greg knew they were going for it when they saw the opportunity to get the other one potentially sloshed.

Mycroft stared at Sherlock and Sherlock stared back, Greg was certain somewhere a dry roll of grass was blowing somewhere over the street by the intensity.

"J4." Mycroft finally uttered and Sherlock looked down. He looked back at his brother before he lifted a glass and drank. Greg shared a look with John, first try that was something. Sherlock put the glass down and looked at his brother.

"G2." Mycroft narrowed his eyes and then picked up a glass and drank the shot.

John and Gregg were quiet. Both got it on their first try…

"J5." Sherlock drank another shot.

"G3." Mycroft took another shot.

This was intense and with every guess they were right.

Half an hour later both of them was pretty sloshed and both out of battleships, all except one glass each.

"F1" They both said simultaneously ensuring there was no winner. As one they drank the last glass. They turned to Greg and John, smiling widely with flushed cheeks.

"Any other game you want to show us?"


	301. Status update

28\. Status update

Greg's right foot was shaking slightly as he continuously tapped it against the chair's foot, up and down in quick movements. His hands would slide over his thighs then clenched together then it would pick up a random house decorating magazine on his left, page through the page without his eyes taking anything in. The hands would dropped the magazine, run through his hair, over his face as if to remove the tension and pain then slid back over his thighs. Rinse and repeat….

Every now and then a nurse would walk by, her soft orthopaedic shoes silent over the floor, her gaze on the man sitting, standing occupying the small plastic chair as if it is his mission in life. Their steps were soft but the gaze they would look at him was loud and filled with sympathy. Greg hated it, so he stopped looking up when someone would pass by.

He still hasn't heard anything from the doctor who spoke to him last, "We will give you a status update as soon as we can Detective…"

A status update?

Seriously?

Apparently.

Greg was still waiting, he tried to call Sherlock to tell them Mycroft was hurt, but Sherlock was on a case and haven't picked up his phone, John was with him and didn't answer as well.

Anthea made it clear that the parents were to be informed in two instances, a, the threat has passed, b, the the….well if the result was death. The threat hasn't passed so they are not informed.

Greg was alone. He was sitting on a small plastic chair in a busy hospital, waiting for a miracle all alone.


	302. Wedded

29\. Wedded

Mycroft watch as Greg loaded the last of their luggage into the boot of the car; he was out of the tux and wearing comfortable jeans. Mycroft was wearing the same. The wedding was over, most of the guests had left and even the wedding cake was cut into pieces and given to friends and family. The biggest piece was currently in their cooler box, along with some other snacks for their trip.

They were on their way to their honeymoon, Mycroft decided on a small private plane that would take them to their destination. He couldn't believe it, after all these years, after everything that had happened, he finally found someone. Someone who understood him, like no one ever has, like no ever took the time to try. Gregory made his life something worth living, instead of surviving like he usually did. He looked down to his hand. A ring was shining brightly on his ring finger, it still felt a bit strange but a good strange, his other hand kept trying to play with it, to touch it, to make sure it is real and not a dream.

"We can go. I've loaded the car and then your minions can unload it at the hanger into the plane." Mycroft blinked and looked at his par-husband.

"Brilliant, let's go then." He replied and opened the door for them to get in. The wedded couple. That's what Sherlock called them when they made their way for the first dance, not the couple, the wedded couple. Mycroft smiled, even his brother knew how much that meant to him.

"What are you thinking, you can't stop smiling?" He turned to Greg who was also smiling and waiting for an answer. Mycroft took his hand, the one with the ring, the ring he put on.

"I was thinking that we are officially married, a wedded couple and on our way to our honeymoon and I can't be any happier than right now." Greg pulled him into a kiss.

"Same here."


	303. Alone

30\. Alone

Greg walked towards Mycroft's office, not happy with the latest discussion he had with Sherlock but it did explain a few things.

The threat of Euros was over and Sherlock asked him to look after Mycroft. They were just in the beginning their relationship and Sherlock hadn't mentioned it, that is until the island and Musgrave and made that comment, which was him practically giving them his blessing.

It was only when he was in the car that he realized what happened and called Sherlock. The conversation was still running in his head.

"You approve?"

"Do we have to do this now?"

"Just tell me why?"

"Why what?"

"You approve, I didn't think you would to be honest."

The silence was long before Sherlock answered.

"He is happy, he once made a comment in his usual snarky snide way and said 'am I happy, I haven't checked' with all of this, he has an air of happiness and it is because of you, you made him check…" Greg couldn't ask what he meant or what he was on about as Sherlock had hung up, Greg couldn't blame him, and he has been through quite enough already.

Greg stopped…the pieces falling together.

Mycroft was sitting on the hospital bed when Greg walked in, he looked tired but somehow still managed a smile when he saw Greg, a smile that made him less tired and Greg felt the implications of that like a wave crashing in his face. Mycroft had checked.

"Hey…"

"Hello." Mycroft greeted back, his voice soft but steady. Greg was informed that his sister confined him in her cell for some time, all alone with his thoughts…and nightmares…and scenarios that range from horrible to unthinkable.

"How are Sherlock and John?" He asked as Greg walked over who just pulled him in a hug. Mycroft was stiff before he relaxed and held on to Greg.

"Fine….they're fine, I'm here for you."

"Thank you."

Greg pulled slightly away so he could look at Mycroft, he slowly cupped his cheek and leaned in for a kiss, and Mycroft met him halfway, his hands on Greg's hips, holding Greg close and keeping him anchored to Greg. When they parted Mycroft stared into those brown eyes, filled with worry for him.

"I so happy I have you." Greg eyes welled up, yes Mycroft checked.

"Me too…." He uttered before pulling Mycroft close again. Holding him with no intention to ever let go.


	304. Ghost

31\. Ghost

Greg came into the room with dragging feet and nearly fell on the sofa.

"Today…sucked…liked…super sucked…"

Mycroft stared at Greg then back to his laptop, he frowned and repeated the sentence over in his head, it still didn't make any sense to him.

"I'm sorry what?"

"Today...sucked."

"I take it, it wasn't a good one?"

"I had a women who claimed that a ghost killed her neighbour, and the ghost was in fact friendly as it always pets her cat, so therefore she refused to give us any information, or a description of the ghost as the neighbour was mean and nobody liked her anyway….So we have nothing…unless I can put a BOLO out for a pet friendly ghost…didn't realize Casper travelled from America…." He added as an afterthought. Mycroft had to think for a moment to figure who 'Casper' was but then he rolled his eyes and stood up. The work could wait.

He walked to Greg and sat next to him; Greg opened his arm and let Mycroft made himself comfortable against his body.

"I'm sorry your day was so bad."

"Aaaw that's okay, could've been worse, the ghost could've been mean to her cat…."

Mycroft snorted a laugh at that which made Greg laugh too.

"Well, tomorrow we will just have to go over the evidence and figure who did it without the ghost's keeper information."

"I have great trust in you to solve this."

"Thank you. You know if I was a ghost, I wouldn't murder anyone or a pet cat, that's for sure."

"Is that so? And what would you do?"

"Deep sea diving…explore the world…no need for oxygen or for money or transport or passports….or luggage….I'm dead…going to see the world…no scuba tanks…bungee jumping no fear of the cable breaking….swimming with sharks…." Greg replied and Mycroft could only roll his eyes.

"Wow, sound like you will have a busy afterlife…"

"Yeah….Well, no need to sleep…"

"Well, while were alive, let's go to bed so we can be awake and functioning tomorrow."

"Okay." Mycroft stood up and pulled Greg with him upstairs, to get some sleep and hopefully tomorrow would be ghost free.


	305. Heartbeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! 
> 
> In case you didn't notice the (1) is for 1st November's prompt, that means only two months to go. Can't believe how far I've and we've come.   
> Have a good day!

 

1 Heartbeat

Mycroft and Sherlock lead the way out of the rooms, knowing the hallways inside Sherringford like the back of their hands, after all Mycroft's been here for years and Sherlock well...he had a crash course compliments of his sister. The Holmes parents were following the two men as they made their way out to the top.

Once they were back into the communal area which is just a huge bare room with a few tables, chairs and a tv. There was a coffee machine and a snack machine, nothing else.

Mycroft was the first to enter and walked straight to the man sitting in the corner his back to them, his feet resting on another chair, stretch out in front of him, there was several empty packets of candy wrappers and chocolates and an empty cup. He was watching some kind of show about the English countryside side and guesthouse development. It was boring as hell, hence the snacks...

"Gregory." Mycroft said as he stood next to Greg who was startled but recovered quickly. He looked up at Mycroft's face, still etched with worry and concern. Mycroft asked him to come along because Mycroft didn't have the strength to come alone with Sherlock and his parents. He made up some excuse about the Yard and how Greg was at her recapture and paperwork but Sherlock saw right through it.

"Hey..." Greg responded and stood up turning back to them, he wanted to touch Mycroft to hold him or give him some kind comfort but they agreed that while at the island nothing but professionalism.

"We're ready to go?" Greg asked as he collected all his waste and throws it in the nearest bin.

"Yes." Mycroft answered and as one they walked back out to the helicopter. They were quiet, each with their own thoughts and feelings. Later when they will all have dinner they will smile and laugh and joke...John would be there as well and the focus would be on the future not the past nor the painful memories.

Greg sat next to Mycroft between him and Sherlock with the parents opposite and next to Anthea. Greg waited till they were in the air before he leaned back, and looked out towards the water. Water always calmed him and he knew it calmed Mycroft too as he was watching the water as well. Greg knew Mycroft was tensed and his heartbeat erratic although he looked calm, it was small tells that only Greg knew and picked up. Small swipes of his finger over the cufflinks he wore were the biggest one. Cufflinks Greg gave him. Cufflinks that calm him, Mycroft once let it slip he wore it on tense days.

Greg waited till they were back in London; he had to go back to the Yard, Mycroft walked with him to the car that would take him. He waited for that one spot where they were isolated enough from prying eyes before he quickly grabbed Mycroft's hand and kissed the knuckles before he let go and turned back. It would do to show Mycroft he cares.

"Thank you for today." Mycroft softly said as he opened the door.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you asked me."

"I just. ..."

"I know Mycroft, you know I love you and would do anything for you, you need to know after everything...I would always love and support you.

Mycroft let the mask fall for one second.

"I know...and it's mutual...I'll see you at home."


	306. Wind

2\. Wind

Mycroft slowly walked out to the door, it opened to their porch and backyard. It was late afternoon the sun caught the wind chime hanging and the coloured glass made a dappled light of colours against the walls. An orange glass shone brightly in his eye and he blinked. He would never bought a wind chime, this one...all Greg.

Mycroft opened the door and stepped out his hands touching the small rows of glass as he let his mind replay the memory.

It was their first weekend away, they went to Brighton and there was a small market next to the beach. They were walking around when the wind caught the chime and drew Greg's attention; the rainbow light caught his attention as it danced over Mycroft's shirt.

He immediately pulled out his wallet and bought it straight away. Mycroft tried to say something but the smile on Greg's face and the way he was happy with his product kept him quiet.

Mycroft opened his eyes as he heard some noise inside the house, Greg was home. Mycroft looked back at the chime where inside a small metal disk with an engraving was.

_"Listen to the wind, and I am near."_

Now when he hears the wind he thinks of brown eyes and smiles of rainbow light dancing in the sky and he feels home.

"Hey Love." Mycroft looked at the man standing in the doorway.

"Hello Gregory. How was your day?" Mycroft reached out his hand to take the one stretched out towards him and allowed Greg to pull him close.

"Better now that I'm home."


	307. Clarity

 

3\. Clarity

Greg sat at the pub, the dust over Sherringford and everything that had happened was just busy to settle, things had slowed down enough that most of the paperwork and overtime has been done and filed away, only the ripples the aftershocks was left to handle and you can only handle that as you go along.

Things had improved to such a state that Greg and John could have a beer without worrying about being somewhere else. John was packing up and getting ready to move back to Baker Street, he and Sherlock had already talked and figured out how to renovate the place to such a state that all three, plus Mrs. Hudson could live there in a spacious apartment. Greg knew that John and Sherlock would eventually talk about their feelings but the time wasn't right. John needed someone to talk to about everything that had happened, someone, someone who was not a therapist, or a therapist in disguise. Greg tea mug was empty and he really wished he had something stronger.

Mycroft was a bit vague in his details when he told Greg what happened, John….well, he didn't spare any details. The more he listened the more he lost sense of his mind, one part wants to cry, one parts wants to binge drink, one parts wants to run away, so many parts and all of them wanted to do different things. One thing they all had in common was the fact that his partner wanted to die, he wanted his brother to shoot him, so that John could be alive.

The clarity of that implication was hitting him square in the chest and mind. He has always known how much Mycroft cared for Sherlock, how he would do anything for his brother, but this….He taunted his brother to get him so angry that he would shoot him. Mycroft would drop everything he holds dear for his brother who treated him with such contempt on a regular basis. How many times hasn't he witness a high and dying Sherlock swear and cussed at his brother that no amount of oceans could wash it off? How many times did Greg saw that broken look in Mycroft's eyes when he had to listen to the diatribe Sherlock would spat at him?

Greg spent years trying to offer some comfort, some sort of help to Mycroft to let him know Sherlock doesn't mean it, Sherlock is just high, and Sherlock is just saying it to get attention, to get a reaction…

When they moved from Sherlock's keepers to friends and then lovers to partner Greg continued to try and give back some of Mycroft's self-worth Sherlock would steal at every chance.

Greg wanted something stronger than tea, his mind peppering him with questions on where does that leave him? If Mycroft is dead, where would it leave them? Did he even think about Greg when they were there? Did he cared about them or was Sherlock and protecting Sherlock the only thing he could see and focused on?

The door bell rung loudly and John looked towards the clock.

"Oh, that must be Molly bringing Rosie back, they went shopping and for ice-cream…" Greg smiled and stood up with John, putting his empty mug in the sink.

"Oh the days where ice-cream could solve anything hey…."

"I know…"

Greg picked up his jacket and watched as John greeted his daughter and talked to Molly, he didn't say much, the whole conversation, or more importantly, his mind was on something else, on Mycroft and how he is so willing to die for his brother without a second thought. He needed to be alone for a while.


	308. Tweeted

4\. Tweeted

Greg was busy with the latest report when the phone buzzed, groaning he put the phone down and looked at his phone.

"Quality time, ginger nuts in reach. #ohwhatabeautifullmorning" Greg dropped his head on the table. Sherlock, of course…

Greg lifted his head, wait….Sherlock was supposed to….

"AAah…" Greg picked up his phone and typed.

" _What did your idiot brother do now?"_

He had to wait nearly an hour before he received a reply.

" **What didn't he do? Are you on your way home?"**

" _No…its. Two in the afternoon, my hours are a bit set…"_

" **Can you go home now?"**

Greg looked up, that was the biggest sign and that something was wrong.

" _Give me ten minutes…"_

Greg took five minutes to come up with a good enough excuse, in ten minutes he was in the car.

By the time he got home Mycroft was without his jacket, his shirts rolled up and a half empty glass.

Greg made his way over to him. Mycroft wordlessly handed him his glass that Greg emptied.

"That bad?" Mycroft sighed, took the glass and turned around to refill.

"He tweeted while in a meeting that determined his life, the effects of what he did to Magnussen and he decided on…I don't even know what to call it…is everything a game to him? The effort I put in to keep him safe, the lengths…" Greg walked closer and put his hand on Mycroft's shaking ones.

"Hey…I'm here…."

"Probably the only reason I'm sane…" Greg gave a sad chuckle at that and pulled Mycroft into a hug.


	309. Holy

5\. Holy

Mycroft walked into the house, Greg was going to be late, he was here but then got a call out. He was about to start with dinner, there was a packet of pasta out, some meat in the fridge and the bottle of sauce. Mycroft sighed, he didn't feel like cooking tonight but he and Greg have this understanding, at least one decent meal per day.

He decided to change quickly and then he will make dinner. He made his way to the bedroom and then rolled his eyes as he caught the book on the nightstand. Gregory his dear Gregory received a few comic book novels for his birthday and decided to read it so far he took a like to Frank Miller apparently. Mycroft pick up the book 'Holy Terror' well, he will just ask his dear partner about it, and if it's good. Right now, it was time for him to make dinner.

Greg walked in just after eleven.

"Hey, before midnight….."

Mycroft put his book down as he watch Greg walked into their bedroom. Mycroft was already in bed.

"That's wonderful, a detective, protecting the city from the onslaught of the terror the night can bring, day or night, secretly smoking a cigarette, the twirling smoke most assuredly reminding him of the terror of the job." Greg stopped undressing and turned to Mycroft who sat with his arms folded, a straight face, except for the eyes that was filled with mischief. Greg started laughing as he walked closer.

"Are you reading the graphic novels?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. If I was…"

"That be so hot….especially talking like that…"

"Is that so?"

"That voice….you might get rewarded…"

"In that case: The detective needed some comfort, somewhere to rest from the night…oh…"


	310. The carpet

6\. The carpet

Greg was having the time of his life, he and Mycroft decided to get new carpet for some rooms in the house, since all the rooms in the house was tile or wood with a rug here and there. After an incident that nearly cost them a trip to the ER and an explanation on why a fifty something year old was running in the house…

Regardless.

Mycroft relented now they were shopping for carpets; Mycroft didn't want any carpet he wanted 'the carpet' whatever that meant. Greg didn't care much for that, so he would just walk along and pull Mycroft's leg every few minutes with 'that carpet is fluffy…we can have fun…' or ' should we get shagged carpet for the bedroom?' Mycroft would blush and Greg would be happy.

When they finally settled on a carpet for most of the rooms Greg winked at Mycroft and set off to the rugs and bathmats section while Mycroft would make the arrangements for payment and delivery.

Ten minutes later Greg came walking close all smiles….

"I found this bathmat…"

"My dear, we have a bathmat." Mycroft replied very happy with his mat, this white one wouldn't match the décor.

"It's not for us, it's for Sherlock."

"You're buying him a bathmat?" Mycroft asked confused and Greg grin got wider.

"Look, it's one of those that turn red with water, so it looks like blood stains and bloody footprints…he would love it." Mycroft took the pamphlet and saw the pictures, women with a towel standing on the mat, two bloody footprints and a few drops. He had to concede, it is something his brother would find fascinating.

Greg insisted they head over to Baker Street to give it to him, and Mycroft rolled his eyes, sometimes he is the only grownup around.

Turns out Sherlock loved it, John could tell them how he would experiment will all kinds of blood drops patterns and experiments without ruining the furniture.


	311. Sculpted

7\. Sculpted

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon; Greg insisted on them having a grill or bbq outside, making sure that Mycroft's state of the art grill build in, outside, was used.

"When was the last time it was used?" He asked with a frown as he removed the cover and cleaned it. Mycroft shrugged.

"Don't remember."

"You remember everything and you can't remember the last time you had a grill?" Greg stared in disbelief.

"No…many years ago, Sherlock was still in school." Greg stared at his partner, flabbergasted.

"You didn't think to have one afterwards? Birthdays, just a lazy Sunday like today?"

"No, Sherlock became problematic and I started the civil service, time pass without a situation to call for it." Yeah, that can make things difficult.

"Right, that's it, from now on, you and me, Sundays…"

"Every Sunday?" Mycroft's eyes widen at that.

"Yes, every available Sunday…this grill needs to be used and admired, it is not some weird metal sculpted thing in your backyard patio…it is beautiful, and lovely and something that makes memories."

"You really feel strongly about this?"

"Yes, a nice steak…you will love my lemon and herb pork chops…green salad, and potato salad, either one, and then afterwards some marshmallows and melted chocolate for dessert…oh the good times we're going to have."

Mycroft just stared at the man, a smile on his face, looking very happy and for some reason he couldn't wait to experience all that, the marshmallows included.


	312. Dot dot dot

8\. Dot dot dot

" **Mummy expects us at the Christmas dinner. MH"**

Greg stared at the phone, Mycroft didn't use the chat app, but a text and he made such wonderful progress with the app. This means one thing, he is unsure and trying to be business-like, to the point, like his work, like he is negotiating and not dealing with his partner or his parents. Greg couldn't blame him after the whole Euros incident and Sherlock drugging them all last Christmas, he bets no one really is looking forward to this year and its surprises. Greg frowned…

" _Are Sherlock and John going to be there? GL"_

" **And the precious human child. MH."**

Greg rolled his eyes, human and child is a given, but since his brother can't do anything wrong, he didn't even get a reprimand for drugging them, it was 'oh he had his reasons' and 'Mycie why didn't you help him?' Greg wasn't in the mood to go and pretend everything was okay, and from the text neither was Mycroft.

" _Do you want to go? MH"_

"…"

Dot dot dot? What kind of answer is that? It can mean anything, yes…no…maybe…I rather be drugged again….i rather would dig up a gravy myself….fake an emergency…Greg bet that if it comes down to it, Mycroft can be very creative in diversions.

" _My? GL"_

" **If you want to. MH"**

No, he doesn't, he would rather do paperwork, watch Sally and Anderson flirt…He gave a long suffering sigh, he didn't want to be the one who took their son away, but then again, the son wants to be taken away, wants to be somewhere safe that isn't there.

" _What about instead of the whole weekend we only go the evening of the 24_ _th_ _and come back the 26_ _th_ _? We can say we have other plans and our own plan. She would understand. GL"_

Let's book a guesthouse in the neighbour town and only go for the Christmas lunch Greg tempted to reply, but knew it wouldn't be looked well. This way instead of a whole week it was enough to show their face, put on a fake smile and move on. Hopefully that would be enough time for Greg to watch what he says as not to start a fight.

"That's acceptable….

**I will arrange for us to be somewhere else the rest of the time. MH."**

" **Thank you. MH"**


	313. No, you don't

9\. No, you don't

It was after nine, both Greg and Mycroft was on holiday, a small private place next to the beach, they had their own little house, but most importantly their own private beach. The sun was just starting set low over the horizon when Greg got a grin, a grin that promised nothing that was good but everything that was desired.

"Come on." He demanded, taking Mycroft's hand and dragging him to the beach the orange and purple waves breaking softly on the sand.

"Where are we going?"

"The ocean." Greg replied and Mycroft got a dreaded feeling, that smirk and the fact that Gregory didn't even bother with towels…or swimwear…he was adding one and one and the two he got was making him wary.

"Gregory…."

"You got it." Greg praised as they stopped at the edge of the sand where the water couldn't get to it and took off his shirt.

"I think I will wait here for you." Mycroft tried but could see it was futile.

"Oh no, you don't…strip."

Just like that, did Gregory seriously just order him to strip…in public…on a beach? By the time his mind processed the de

"You want me to undress?"

"Yes, we are going skinny dipping."

"I've never done that."

"Exactly why we're doing it now…come on, it's private just us and it would be fun, really trust me."

Mycroft stared a bit and looked around, it was one of the most private beaches in the world, and it was getting dark…and the day was warm…the water did look inviting…and he trusted Gregory.

He slowly undress till he was naked, a little self-conscious and made his way to the water Greg walking next to him, the water foamed around their feet and Greg's' smile slowly melted the tenseness out of Mycroft's shoulder and allowed the happiness, the fun to shine through.

Needless to say, they swam for quite some time and it became one of Mycroft's fondest memories in his entire life.


	314. Used tea bags

10\. Used tea bags

 

Mycroft eyed the bag in Greg's hand with something close to revolting.

 

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked, not even bothering to point to the bag. Greg looked at it then back at Mycroft.

 

"Yes, great deduction Love, now I know why you're the smart one."

 

"Gregory…" A lesser man would be intimidated and even retreat, not Greg.

 

"Oh don't worry, it is not for us."

 

"Oh wonderful, I was just about to say I didn't realize I added used tea bags on our grocery list…" Mycroft replied sarcastically following Greg towards the kitchen with his package.

 

"Good, because you don't use tea bags, leaves straight from the box." Greg answered back nonplussed.

 

Mycroft took a breath and tried to look interested.

 

"Why do you have used tea bags with you? More importantly where did you get it?"

 

"From John, he and Sherlock go through quite the bags hey…anyhow it is for Sally's niece, she has a science experiment for school – I told Sherlock – and now he wants to do it to."

 

"What experiment can that be?"

 

"It's basically to be greener and reuse stuff to clean the environment, instead of plastic pots and soil; you can start your own garden with the tea bags."

 

"Makes sense, the leaves are boiled so it's sterile and very good in nutrients…" Mycroft commented finally interested enough to step closer to the package.

 

"Yeah, apparently you place then on a paper towel in a bowl or container, put a seed in each bag, wet it and let it grow then replant it with the bag."

 

"It's quite effective and well thought out."

 

Greg turned to Mycroft with a cheeky smile.

 

"Aaawww do you want to make one too…"

 

"Don't be ridiculous, our plants would be much better than since we use the leaves without the bag and it better quality."

 

"There's my competitive man….shall we save the leaves from now on…."

 

Mycroft narrowed his eyes and straightened his back.

 

"Whatever you please."

 

Greg took that as a yes.

 

 


	315. Walk the dog

11\. Walk the dog

Mycroft and Greg walked down the country side, hand in hand, they were visiting Mycroft's parents, and attempt to start over so to speak. In all honesty it could've gone better, but then Mummy made a remark at breakfast and it was very close to turn into a full blown argument. Greg stood up and declared that he and Mycroft is going to take a walk, Mummy said she was running low on milk so they will walk and get some.

Mummy and Mycroft stared at each other and then Mycroft's father stepped in and asked for a few other things as well. Mycroft gave a curt nod and then followed Greg out.

"I don't understand Gregory, if she has no plans to start over, what am I doing here, haven't I done enough? Tried enough?" Greg couldn't answer, he didn't know what to say, and instead he took Mycroft's hand, hoping that would give him enough comfort to know he understands and no matter what he will be there for him.

They continued walking down the road each with their own thoughts, Mycroft knew that back at the house his father is trying to talk some sense into his mom, at least he seemed to treat Mycroft with a bit more warmth than normal, then again it could be because of Greg. Father was like Greg, always trying to keep the peace, to help, to comfort and ease trouble away. He looked towards the small shop, a young woman was running, obviously training for a race somewhere, a few people were walking around doing their shopping it was all so normal.

"You know if we should walk our dog more." Greg commented out of nowhere. Mycroft turned his head.

"Walk the dog?" Greg nodded.

"We don't have a dog Gregory, we have no pets."

"I know, but you were so deep in thought I said the first thing to get you out was planning on 'I'm pregnant' but that wouldn't have worked….or would it?"

"I'm sorry my mind is just…"

"I know, but stop allowing her to ruin your day, let's go get the milk and the other stuff and then we can go back and see if your dad managed to calm her down."

Mycroft took a breath and nodded.

"Okay…but I stand firm we leave first thing tomorrow."

"Of course. It's fine. Hey we should get a chocolate egg for both of us, those are amazing."


	316. It evaded me

12\. It evaded me

Greg was bored, it was his day off, and after doing the laundry, finished the book he has been threatening to finish for the past two months, and now he had nothing to do. He didn't feel like watching telly, he didn't feel like taking a walk, he most certainly didn't want to check his emails to catch up on work or anything like that.

He did however start browsing and then he discovered the big bad world of 'insta-food' and 'three ingredients cookies' and all that. There was a recipe for cinnamon buns and the more he saw variety of it, and the easier the recipes got, he became hungry….more in the mood for food.

Two pages later he was at the kitchen table displaying the ingredients, most of it was half hidden away in the pantry so Mycroft couldn't be tempted…well too bad.

Greg switched the oven on and started…

Mycroft came home to kitchen smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked goods. He rolled his eyes and made his way to the kitchen, Greg was standing at the table, an oven tray filled with big fluffy swirly cinnamon buns as he poured the white sticky icing over the top. It landed on each bun and Greg would twirl and whirl it till most of the tray and buns were covered, it looked absolutely divine.

The worse part was that there were two trays…

"Gregory. What are you doing?" Greg looked up, all smiles and icing streaks around his mouth, he tasted it.

"Hi…I was bored…."

"What about our arrangement to eat healthier…remember the charity race in a few weeks…?" Greg stared at him, his mouth in a line and his whole face that of a guilty schoolboy.

"It….um…it evaded me…" Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

"Really? And the fact that you're in your running trousers didn't remind you?" Greg looked down to the trousers, covered in flour.

"Uh..no?"

Greg shrugged at that and put the empty icing container in the sink.

"Well, the good news is that you can give one tray to Anthea tomorrow. Anyway…come on…have one…."

Mycroft gave an exasperated sigh and took a small plate.

"I want the most icing."


	317. Water flowed

13\. Water flowed

The scream was loud and Greg nearly fell out of the bed, his book flying across the mattress.

"Gregory!" Greg jumped up and run to the bathroom, scared and worried, he nearly fell as he went into the bathroom, water was all over the place and Mycroft was struggling to close the faucet.

"What happened?" Greg asked his face a mixture between concern and amusement.

"The faucet broke! I can't turn the water off." The water flowed, or splashed the entire sink and surrounding area, Mycroft's suit was wet and sticking to his body, the floor was puddled, the mirror was splashed, it was a sight. Greg looked at the frantic panic on his face and couldn't stop from laughing, his ice-cool partner; smooth in every situation was frenzied with a broken faucet.

"Gregory, seize your laughter this instant and help." Mycroft yelled as he tried to put the broken faucet back on and turn it, it didn't work.

Unfazed Greg walked closer and bends down to the underside of the basin, he opened the small cupboard underneath the basin and reached in with his hand, a few second later the water stopped.

Mycroft stood there, half wet in a puddle, the water in small droplets on his face and dripping down, Greg couldn't keep his smile in check.

"How did you do that?"

"Magic."

Mycroft gave him an icy stare that was very ineffective while dripping wet. Greg smiled and got up as he answered.

"The water line is underneath; the faucet that controls the water flow is usually close in case of emergencies."

"Oh." Mycroft replied softly and then dropped the faucet on the sink.

"We should clean this up."

"Yes…let met help you."

"Thank you." They both reached for the spare towels and started cleaning up, Greg would occasionally looked at Mycroft shake his head and laughed.

"You can stop that amusement, and no…you can't take a photograph of me like this."

"But you look so adorable."

"I am not adorable."

Greg just looked at him and laughed harder dropping the now wet towel in the bathtub and pulled Mycroft close so he could kiss him.

"Yes, you are, and you are all mine."


	318. The test results

14\. The test results

Greg was half running half walking as he made his way down the hallway and skipped every second stair as he rushed up towards Mycroft's office. The text he received early the morning was running through his mind faster than his feet.

" **My office. ASAP. MH."**

Two words, two acronyms and Greg were running and frantic with worry. Mycroft had never in their relationship sent messages like that, not even before, there were short text back when they just met and dealing with Sherlock, but hardly ever again. He yelled instructions towards Sally regarding the case and witnesses and everything that needs to be done and then he took off.

Finally, Mycroft's office door in sight, he opened the door and rushed in, shutting it with a heavy thud.

"Mycroft…." He trailed off, trying to catch his breath.

Mycroft was standing near the window, his posture rigid and straight, he looked okay, no blood, no bomb threats…Greg took a breath and walked towards him. Mycroft turned around, his face betraying the worry and sadness.

"I went to see Sherlock this morning." Oh hell no if that little git said something to upset Mycroft…

"I remember you said you need to stop there this morning something about the Trust."

Mycroft nodded briefly and started to pace the floor towards his desk.

"He was late I went into the kitchen and my caught this in the cupboard." Mycroft lifted a small plastic bag filled with a white powder, it was a bit bigger than a tea bag and Greg could understand the fright, the fear of what it could be run through his partner's head. Greg walked closer and took the bag from Mycroft.

"He made a new drug, in his kitchen!"

"Mycroft…" Greg tried.

"He was supposed to be clean; he had a new life ahead of him…." Mycroft trailed off and sat down on the edge of the desk. Greg eyed the bag, a small frown on his face it didn't make sense.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"I don't know, I haven't thought that far, I'm waiting for the test results, I took a sample down, only my trusted people are on it. I think we can figure out what to do after the results."

Greg eyed the packed and then he slowly opened it, his frown deepened and he licked his fingers and put it inside the bag. He pulled it out and then he put it in his mouth. His lip run across his bottom lip before his eyes widen in surprise.

"My, this is baking powder."

Mycroft shot up.

"You identify it? That's marvellous. Is it new on the market? Do you think he made it?"

"No, Mycroft it is baking powder, that little ingredient that you bake with? That makes cakes rise up?"

"It can't be. Sherlock doesn't bake; the drug must be cutted with it, to mask it…." Right then the phone rang and Mycroft picked up hoping for answers.

"Yes?"

"Sir." Anthea's voice sounded over the receiver. "I'm afraid it is baking powder, the Tesco brand to be more precise."

"I see." Mycroft put the phone down and from Greg's expression he heard it all. He was biting down on his lip to keep from laughing. Silent tears were forming and he struggled to keep it together. His face was turning different shades of red and his shoulders were shaking.

"Don't say a word…" With that Greg burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking.

"Who should I tell?"

Mycroft sighed and took the bag and glared at it as if it personally offended him, in a way it probably did, Greg mused. He wiped his tears and took Mycroft's hand.

"Come on; let me take you home a strong cup of tea and some relaxing…"


	319. Just walk away

15\. Just walk away

There are some things you do and some things you don't. The best example would be that when you're fighting with your partner to show up when he makes arrangements to meet up and discuss it, you show up.

That was the plan.

Greg and Mycroft had a serious fight and Mycroft proceeded to run away from the problem by claiming an emergency in Taiwan and then took the first flight out to resolve it. He tried Anthea but of course her loyalty is with Mycroft and she told Greg where to shove it, cutting off his survival line to Mycroft. Mycroft himself haven't returned his messages and didn't even attempt to call him.

Finally after nearly a week Greg got a text that they should meet to "talk it out" Greg was angry at first that Mycroft would wait so long before he would get in touch but it took him all off ten minutes to realise this is something you don't just walk away from

What he and Mycroft had and hopefully still have is only comes by once in a lifetime and it would be very stupid of him to let it slip through his fingers.

The meeting was at lunch and Greg was rushing to get there, parking was a nightmare to find and he had five minutes to make it to the restaurant. Greg looked at his watch and decided to risk it; he set off in a brisk walk that quickly turned to him running between the people to make it. That was when everything went belly up; he spun around the corner right into the scaffolding where some renovations were taking place. His head caught the wooden ledge across the metal work and the last thing he remembered was the blinding pain and then nothing.

By the time he woke up he was in a hospital bed, seven stitches and a neck brace around his neck. The impact gave him a horrible whiplash that made the doctors took a few x-rays and declared he has to wear the brace at least two weeks.

On top of that it was evening, which meant he missed the lunch date. He felt like crying, he had no idea what Mycroft was thinking when he didn't show up, the logical conclusion would be that Greg wasn't interested in fixing this.

He wanted a drink, he wanted his phone, he wanted someone to call Mycroft and explain, he wanted Mycroft and he wanted to be able to move is neck, he wanted the headache to be gone...

It took the doctors another load of morphine to settle him down with a heavy heart and pain that won over the physical pain.

It was around eleven at night when Greg's door slowly opened and the tall figure walked in. The silhouette was walking towards the bed and slowly sat down in the plastic chair.


	320. Just another day

16\. Just another day

Greg eyed the sky outside with scepticism, the sun was out, shining like it did every other day, a few clouds on one side, a lot more on the other…promising rain in the next few hours or days. The sky was blue, the grass green, the buildings old, the roads black…all in all it was just another day.

Another normal day.

Yet….

Greg turned back from the window to look at the two people, all their attention on one another and not on him. He was okay with it, because this…this was magical, spectacular. In all the years he has known these two men, this was the first time there were no bickering, insults and snide remarks. Their presence wasn't tolerated but appreciated. Mycroft stood in front of Sherlock, both actually happy to be here, to be standing in front of each other.

If one thing came out of Sherringford it was this. After a few weeks of catching up on events. Mycroft helping Sherlock with his memories, their relationship had developed into something stronger than before. Whereas previously the concern and care was one side, it was now reciprocated. It was a bond shared with mutual respect and awe, with trust and love.

Greg wanted to jump and dance seeing it, instead he stood still. Savouring the moment like a very proud man as his partner and his partner's little brother was slowly reaching to each other into a hug. It said more than words ever could.


	321. Grass cuttings

17\. Grass cuttings

Mycroft was late. Greg watched the door again with disdain, Mycroft was supposed to be back on Thursday, it is Saturday now…He has cleaned the place, baked a batch of cookies, still the frustration won't leave him alone. He was anxious and stressed. Anthea hasn't been in touch either and he knew it wasn't that something horrible had happened as Mycroft had procedures in place in the event of something happening.

That means it was minor, but also major.

As a last resort to work off his frustration he took the lawnmower and started cutting the grass, the grass cuttings falling everywhere, he didn't bother to pick it up, Mycroft usually hated it, but greg did it on purpose, maybe just maybe if he did that, he would come home sooner.

It didn't work.

That night he sent a text.

" _I didn't pick up the grass cuttings from mowing the lawn,_

_I know you hate it, but I had to. Come home."_

He went the bed clutching the pillow and unable to find a comfortable position. When he did fall asleep it was restless, until around three in the morning, when somehow he managed to settle down, unaware of the soft strokes on his back, the smile on his face and the whispering of a promise to never stay so long again.


	322. Her husband

18\. Her husband

Greg looked at the picture and couldn't help the snort of laughter. On the front page were a few politicians with Mycroft in the front, standing to one side with Anthea by his side and his umbrella. Luckily it was a rainy day so the umbrella was more of a necessity than a dramatic prop.

Greg read the sub heading again 'The Majesty and her husband are personally involved in reforming the transport of London' The whole new craze is apparently about being 'green' and 'environment friendly and all that.

If Mycroft ever wanted to strengthen his 'minor' role and in Transport, this would be the perfect cover and alibi. Still smiling he picked up his phone.

" _The Telegraph captured you wonderfully. GL"_

" **I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. MH."**

" _Come on, you looked dishy and ready to tackle the busses…GL"_

" **Why are we together again? MH"**

" _For moment like this. Keeping you humble and modest. GL"_

" **Oh, how could I forget? MH"**

" _Don't worry I will remind you._

_Oh. Do you want hake tonight or chicken? GL"_

" **"**

" _Ooooh… Transport made you a warrior! Steak it is my faithful knight. GL"_

" **You can be glad my feelings for you are what they are. MH."**

" _Hahaha….same. GL"_


	323. Rules changed

 

19 Rules changed

Greg had the afternoon off and decided to make use of the time by enjoying the summer day outside, instead of just going home and relaxing, he was going to walk home, buy something cold to drink, or an ice-cream and just take the moment. He spent so much time and years running around the streets that today would be the perfect time to just enjoy the moment.

About half an hour later he found a small vendor that sold wonderful looking ice-cream in multiple flavours and colours.

"Cup please, with the bubble-gum, the strawberry and the marshmallow please."

The man handed him the small cup with the three scoops and small plastic spoon. Greg paid for it and started walking towards the small area with benches overlooking the river.

The ice-cream was wonderfully cool and he got lost in his surroundings, that is until a shadow stood behind him. He looked closely to the tall lean figure, the unmistakeable shadow of an umbrella and he took a breath, that cologne.

"My…" He smiled into the name and to his surprise Mycroft walked around the bench and sat next to him.

"Good day Gregory, enjoying your afternoon?"

"Yes. Very."

"I must say that ice-cream looks wonderful." Greg grinned.

"It is, if I knew you would accept, I would offer my spoon and cup to you."

"Maybe today I would, accept that is." Greg's eyes widen and with a gleeful expression he handed the cup and spoon to Mycroft who took a big bite.

"So what happened to the rule of no eating in public, and no showcase of public affection?"

Mycroft shrugged and took another bite of the ice-cream.

"Rules changed."

"Really?" Greg asked with surprise.

"I had some thought, I'm not going to throw myself over you in public, but I think this is okay."

"Me too…" Greg replied feeling much better than he already did for the day, they continued to share the ice-cream in comfortable silence and when they had to go home, Mycroft held Greg's hand.


	324. Hello

20\. Hello

Greg knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the room, the office was still well-light with the checkerboard layout of lights, the windows non-existent, the pot plant in the corner still miserable in an attempt to brighten the sterility of the place.

"Uhhhh hello?" He tried and the two men turned to him. Two tall brothers, one with a distant forlorn face, the other with something that Greg could only describe as heart-breaking and sadness.

Instead of answering Sherlock turned back to Mycroft who looked down.

"I will come back later." Greg tried and turned around.

"No, please stay." Mycroft asked.

"You sure…."

"Yes." Mycroft replied.

"That's it, just like that?"

"Yes Sherlock, it is what you always wanted, I don't understand I do this, you get angry and resent me, I take it away you're still angry and resentful." Greg was watching the interchange with wide eyes, he had no idea what this was about, he did know that Mycroft wanted to discuss something with Sherlock, but he had no idea what.

"You're taking it all away?"

"That is correct." Greg's eyes widen in realization, Mycroft mentioned something about removing all of Sherlock's surveillance, since he didn't want it, and hate Mycroft for it, and the secret of Euros was out. Greg didn't think Mycroft would actually go ahead with it, and from the looks he was getting, neither did Sherlock. He could see the young man was confused about this, but had no idea how to offer him some form of comfort. He had no idea how to handle this; he could only hope that both Sherlock and Mycroft for that matter would handle this with maturity.


	325. You again

21\. You, again

Sometimes you just know when it is love, real accepted unconditional love. He always knew that what he felt for Mycroft was beyond everything he ever felt before, but sometimes it just hit you square in the face.

He was at Baker Street, convincing Sherlock to take a case when Mycroft showed up. Mycroft stepped in and Sherlock looked up, rolled his eyes in the most dramatic way he could before flicking his gown behind him.

"You, again. You already live with my Detective, is it necessary to stalk him when he is with me?"

"Oh my apologies my dear little brother, were we supposed to draw up a custody arrangement?" That was it; Greg knew this was the opening line of several minutes of five-year old bickering disguised as two middle-aged men.

So he did what he always did, sat down on Sherlock's chair put on leg over the other lay back and enjoy the show.

It was after a few minutes of listening and their antics and their faces that he couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing. As one they turned to him, the same posture, the same look, just different faces.

"Oh my God, I love you two so much." He burst out and laughed again. They pulled a face and looked at each other before they just turned around and walked to opposite sides of the room. Sherlock picked up the file, all of a sudden very interested in the case.


	326. Distorted sounds

22\. Distorted sounds

Greg walked into the office both Anthea and Mycroft was listening to something Greg couldn't figure out what it was.

"Hi Anthea, My…what on earth are you listening too?"

Mycroft stopped the sound.

"Good afternoon Gregory." Anthea just nodded to him he smiled back as he sat down next to her.

"Don't you like it?"

"Is it a new band…distorted sounds for the new age thinking or what?"

"It's whale sounds."

"Is it being tortured?" Anthea bit her lip down to keep herself from laughing; Mycroft stared at Greg, who by now was immune to it.

"It is supposed to be calming, and relaxing. The PM is thinking about giving each parliament member a disc with the sound to help them in their decision making."

"That explains why it is so distorted, would fit right in with the PM and her…."

"Gregory…."

"Relaxed and calming reign…" Greg ended with a smug smile.

They stared at each other for a few minutes when Anthea cleared her throat.

"Shall I order some tea?"

"I think that would be wise."

Greg kept staring at Mycroft and just as Anthea stood up, gave him a cheeky grin and wink.


	327. Whispers

23\. Whispers

Greg woke up to find the bed empty and the side already cold. Mycroft's phone was on the nightstand, still charging so he wasn't called out for a meeting or something that required him to save the world.

Greg leaned back onto his side, his hand already removing the blanket so he could get out. The fact that Mycroft was not in bed, can only mean one thing; he had a nightmare.

Without bothering to put on his slippers he made his way downstairs, sure enough the small lamp in the living room was on, casting long dark shadows. Mycroft was standing at the door; opening to the patio outside, a slight summer breeze was wading in and out covering Mycroft like a ghost.

"Can't sleep?" He asked as he softly made his way over. Mycroft didn't even flinch already aware that Greg was in the room.

"Yes. Some nights the voices are screaming, sometimes its whispers, regardless, it prohibits my sleep." Mycroft moved to rest his weight on his other leg, opening his arm where without invitation, Greg just snuggled in, keeping him close. The curtain swallowed around them both in a private little bubble.

"I'm sorry."

"It will get better, in fact it used to be much worse before you this, is quite acceptable."

Greg's heart break when he heard that, he used to go through all of this alone.

"Then I'm very glad I am here for you."

"Me too. Me too."


	328. Something was off

24\. Something was off

His spidey senses was on high alert when he stepped into the room, Mycroft was supposes to be home, yet there was not a sound to be heard. Something was off and there was no smell of the macaroni and cheese they agreed upon that morning.

Taking off his jacket and kicking of his shoes he walked into the living room and stopped. Frozen to the spot.

There on the plush carpet was Mycroft, fast asleep with a…is that a puppy in his arms? A small blanket, chew toy and bowl of water and food were there as well. Mycroft was in in his shirtsleeves all rolled up, and shoes kicked off. Greg slowly walked closer but the puppy heard him and woke up, giving small adorable little barks. Greg couldn't help but smile. Mycroft woke up as well, turning to see what the reason for the puppy's excitement was.

"Gregory. How was your day?"

"Not as interesting as yours apparently and who is this little guy?" He asked as he walked closer and picked the puppy up.

"I don't have a name for him yet, our surveillance team rescued him from a near drowning on the east side, and I couldn't….well…he doesn't have a home…Anthea is looking but the agents can't have animals…"

"So we're taking him?" Greg asked as he sat down on the carpet too, ruffling the soft hair and making faces at the puppy. Mycroft looked a bit unsure.

"If you'd like?"

"Well, he needs a name."

"I've always liked Alexander."

"How about Xander for short?"

"I would like that."

Greg looked at the puppy.

"Did you hear that Xander, you're ours now…"


	329. Smoke

25\. Smoke

Greg took a deep drag of the cigarette, his head resting on the concrete wall behind him. He wasn't supposed to smoke, but this case was one that called for something else. It was a difficult; it was hard and in involved children. Some days he really thinks he is getting too old for this, he should retire and go to some small village and sit on a recliner staring into the distance, maybe a treeline in the distance, a squirrel or two running between the hedges…maybe the ocean in the background.

If only.

Opening his eyes he took another drag and noticed the camera was pointing in his direction, it wasn't before. He smiled warmly at that and took out his phone.

" _I'm fine. GL."_ He quickly typed. The reply was instantaneous.

" **You're on your second for the hour, you're not. MH"** Mycroft knows him so well.

" _Tough case, I will be. GL"_

" _Thanks for noticing by the way. GL"_

" **I always noticed you; you're the only thing/person in my life worth noticing. MH"**

How do you reply to that? He started typing and then deleted it before starting again. He did it several times when the reply came.

" **You don't have to reply. I know how you feel. I love you too. Take care and I'll see you tonight. MH"**

Greg looked up at the camera, staring for a long minute before he nodded, put out the cigarette and walked back into the building.


	330. Liar

26\. Liar

Greg sat in the hospital chair, waiting for Mycroft to get dressed. They are releasing him today after a two night stay. The whole Euros debacle it out and he has tried to put our fires wherever he could. He, himself is in a bit of difficult situation. Mycroft lied to him, to everyone, and even though he had his reasons, hell, he had the perfect reasons, the fact is, he was a liar. Greg didn't really had time for lies after his ex. Once bitten twice shy, as the saying goes.

On the other hand, he also knew that Mycroft's lies were on a whole different level than adultery and he will stand with Mycroft through this. This secret he has been holding since childhood, that's a lot of years, decades even, and it will not sort itself out overnight or fix itself.

Mycroft will need help, a lot of it, and he Greg Lestrade will give every little bit of help he can, wherever he can.

The curtain opened and Mycroft stepped out, his eyes widen to see Greg was still there. Greg wanted to shake his head, Mycroft thought he lied about staying and got out. Both of them will have some difficult times ahead. He stood up and took Mycroft's arm.

"Still here. Not going anywhere, besides, home, we're going home." Mycroft stared and then gave a slight nod, allowing Greg to lead him.


	331. I have plans

27\. I have plans

Greg was busy writing up his last report before he had to start all over again with another case when there was a soft knock on his door.

"Come on in." He replied without bothering to look up. If he did he would've seen Mycroft slowly walking in, smiling softly.

"I must say, the glasses look absolutely ravishing." Greg's head flicked up in surprised, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

"Oh…uh…hi…" He stumbled over his words.

"You don't usually stumble over your words when I compliment you, catching your breath yes….stumble…no…" Mycroft said all innocently which caused the blush to deepen.

"My…." Greg tried but no avail. Mycroft just shrugged slightly.

"Well, you are the only to compliment me; the whozoos in here think it is a good ice-breaker for old man and grandpa jokes. Anyway, what are you doing here, you don't usually come to visit me at work."

"No, I don't. I have plans for us this weekend and was wondering if you could go ahead and ask for time off…I can come with if you'd like."

"No…cause the Sup is scared of you. I will ask him, alone."

"If he says no?"

"Wow, you really can play the innocent card so well. Wait here and I'll quickly go."

Mycroft gave him a perfect smile.

"Wonderful."


	332. I turn the page

28\. I turn the page

Greg and Mycroft were enjoying a late morning breakfast or brunch on the patio when the alarm alerted them to an intruder. Mycroft picked up his phone, clicked a few buttons and sighed. That told Greg everything.

"Sherlock?"

"Who else?"

"Couldn't he just use the doorbell like everyone else?" Greg asked taking another sip of his tea. Mycroft just gave him a look that made Greg laughed.

Sure enough a few minutes later the tall figure came waltzing through the door.

"Guess what happened?" He announced, staring at them both, a rolled newspaper in his hand. Greg and Mycroft shared a look. Greg was the first to speak.

"You're taking classes to open doors?"

"Hilarious." Sherlock replied.

"Tea, dear brother?" Mycroft asked instead and immediately poured another cup of tea. Sherlock watched him and sat down. Greg pushed a small plate and the toast towards him. Sherlock glanced at Greg and then picked up the knife to spread some butter and jam.

"What happened?" Greg asked when Sherlock was finished spreading the jam.

"Mrs. Hudson came up; with this….said it was of utmost importance I open it." Mycroft and Greg shared a glance, both knew what was inside. They went to a new symphony yesterday and had their picture taken by the composer and are undoubtedly in the paper.

"So…I turn the page…and there the two of you were….all happy and smiling…it was nauseating." Sherlock explained and took a big bite out of his bread and followed it with tea.

"It was a very good performance." Mycroft replied as if it solved everything. Greg smiled.

"In fact so good, we got two more tickets for you, there is – according to critics - a challenging violin part and I know you would find it easy. So you can have the two, take John and find out if it is indeed so difficult." Sherlock stared at Greg who stared back.

"Fine. I'll take it and go."

"Finish your breakfast first dear brother."


	333. Chapter 333

29\. in the fridge

Mycroft came home and as usual left and per routine greet Greg, if he was home, if not, changed his clothes and then start dinner, however this time Greg was already home and in busy making dinner.

"Good evening." He greeted and walked over to the Greg, that's when he saw what he was busy with. That batter didn't look like pie dough.

"Are you making..."

"Baking...yes."

"You're baking a cake...Instead of making dinner."

"I didn't feel like pie...so I made some crispy chicken in sesame oil salad, it's in the fridge by the way, this...this is dessert." Greg happily exclaimed and Mycroft rolled his eyes.

Turns out both of them had a sweet tooth and both likes to make food. They also came to the conclusion of the dinner is healthy the dessert can be a bit...unhealthy.

"What are you baking?"

"Strawberry cheesecake poke cake." Goodness it sounds delicious, he noticed the fresh pack of strawberries as well, and he couldn't wait, he should probably have a small portion of salad…

"Oh...new recipe?"

"Yup. Had to try it, go get change and I'll put this baby in the oven and set the table."

"Thank you."


	334. Her couch

30\. Her couch

Greg knew that look; he has been submitted to that look, ever since he and Mycroft started dating. It's the look of a man desperate to ask something, but not sure how to, because it is most likely something private…or emotional. The Holmes handbook didn't really come with a chapter on handling feelings and emotions so Greg had to learn the hard way.

"Ask me." He finally said looking at Mycroft who bit his lip, quickly glanced away and then back at Greg.

"When was the first time you realised you liked both girls and boys?"

Aaaah…private.

"About fifteen I think, I had this crush on this girl, Maggie was her name, and so I befriended her brother…and ended up making out with him, on his mother's couch, then got caught by Maggie."

"Oh…that must have been something."

"Yeah, turns out, that every person had their own couch of sofa or seat in the living room and we were making out on her couch, she kept yelling 'not on my couch! How could you' and then emptied the vase of flowers and water over both of us…needless to say my crush on her vapoured instantly."

"And the brother?"

"Derick and I kept seeing each other for about a year, in secret until they moved away, his dad got a promotion somewhere and they had to move. I did realise one thing though."

"And what is that?"

"Women are a hell lot more dramatic than men."

"Except me and my brother." Mycroft replied smiling shyly, Greg burst out laughing and pulled him close.

"That's true…but I wouldn't have you any other way."


	335. Battery operated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow readers we made it....this is the beginning of December. One month to go!!

1 Battery operated

When Mycroft came home that afternoon, he was met with laughter Greg was happy with something, there was a buzzing sound in the air. He made his way to the back garden to see Greg and Sherlock with John close behind looking into the sky. Greg was holding a remote switching a controller, Mycroft looked up two see some kind of helicopter in the air.

"What are you guys doing?" He asked walking closer.

"Hi Love, we're seeing how high and silent this little thing can go."

"Why?"

"For a case." Sherlock replied back and that was enough for Mycroft to not ask any more questions. Instead he went back in to make some tea for them all. He prepared the tray as well as some biscuits and went back out.

By the time he went back out with the tray, they were sitting at the table discussing the pros and cons of the machine for the case.

"Is it battery operated?" Mycroft asked as he looked closer at the machine.

"Yes, but for some reason it loses its power quickly." John added. Mycroft put the tray down and looked at the remote. He turned to Sherlock who had stuffed his mouth with two biscuits.

"If you add a small lithium powered battery or a small solar panel for it to draw extra energy from the sun, the battery should last you longer."

"Yeah…but…." Sherlock started saying a word then chew and Mycroft didn't even bother to tell him off, he was glad his brother was just participating.

"It would have to be custom made."

"I can provide you with the tools and materials if you'd like."

"Yeah, that be great." Greg and John said at the same time before Sherlock could object. Sherlock looked at his brother and just nodded.


	336. Family

2\. Family

Greg was at a crime scene when he noticed the sleek black car on the corner. He frowned, Mycroft rarely stop these days, unless it was very important. He quickly gave the order for Sally to take control and made his way over to the car. As he got neared Mycroft climbed out of the car.

"Hey, what is wrong?" Greg asked as he came close, his face betraying the angst.

"Why should something be wrong?" Mycroft asked, with confusion.

"My, you don't really visit me these days, and if you do show up, something happened." Greg explained and gave a small smile at the slight blush creeping up on Mycroft's cheeks.

"Well….uh…I can understand I do seem to visit you when there is trouble."

"So what is it, I am not complaining I also like to see you."

"Well, we had a meeting and someone mentioned something about family and I always was like not bothered cause I don't really have one, besides Sherlock but we don't live together…and my parents doesn't count, but I have you. And I like you and live with you and love you and you're my family….the point is today I understand what he meant, and I suddenly wanted to see you. So….here I am."

Greg's smile could warm up the whole of London as he squeezed Mycroft's hand.

"I love you too…and you're my family too."


	337. Suicide

3\. Suicide

This wasn't a coincidence; everything in Greg told him that this was a murder. You don't get a random call at night from someone who was in the 'dragonskul' gang willing to give you inside information about an ongoing investigation only to commit suicide a few hours later.

He stared at the man on the floor the needle still stuck in his arm. This man was killed. He was going to talk to the cops - to Greg and that cost him his life.

He couldn't let them get away with it. He won't.

The fact that this man had jet black hair and a pale face that reminded him of someone didn't help.

He runs his hands through his hair, causing the grey spikes to fall even more unruly than before.

If someone else was willing to talk to him, they would be too scared now. He is going to struggle with this one and the chance to even close the case he was busy with became very slim. This one already will be ruled as an overdose, he knows it, even if the man was willing to talk, they will still say that a, he was a junkie and misjudged or b, he was murdered but no one would be able to prove that.


	338. Star

4\. Star

_There are some moments in parenthood in which you really don't know what you have to answer to your children. This was one of those moments for Greg._

"Dad, can I have a star?"

He bent on his knees in the middle of the living room to talk face to face with his son

"It isn't something you can have, my dear. The stars are in the sky, all above us"

But his son seemed have something clear in his mind.

"But you've got a star. I want one too."

How difficult is it to translate 5 years old's thought?

"Ok" Greg sat on the carpet. t seemed to be a long conversation

"Explain this to me, what do you mean with _I have star_?"

The kid sighed twice as to search for the words to explain his thoughts

"When you say goodbye to Papa every morning when you have to go to work early, you kiss him goodbye and say "be my lucky star today" if papa is your star I want mine"

Greg face reached a new shade of red.

"You should be in the kitchen having your breakfast not spying us at the front door"

"I know..." He replied, pulling his face only like a Holmes can, those eyes…

"But yesterday you forget the drawing I made for your office and I run after you but you were already leaving"

Greg sighed, these kids were clever and they were running faster than their expectations. Having two male parents wasn't a problem for them at the moment...they were young, surely they would have some issues about it in the future but Greg and Mycroft were ready to face them, but how could he explain to his son the deepest meaning of his words? The hidden hope to return safe at home every evening following his lucky star that bring him back to his beloved. How could he explain the danger of his job or Mycroft's job? He couldn't….

Suddenly Greg stood up saying to his son. "Take some sheets of papers and your coloured pencils…

When Mycroft got home that evening with the little princess he found his son and his husband playing cowboys. His son was running around with a big yellow star pinned to his chest, just like a sheriff. When he saw his Papa he run over, his eyes big and skin flushed from running, the smile wide.

"Papa look! I've got my star too. Dad made it for me. Like his"

Mycroft looked put down his daughter who also wanted to see.

"Oh wonderful my dear" he said following Greg in the kitchen, Greg pointed their son.

"He wanted a star like mine. He overheard us one of these morning when we kiss goodbye"

"I see... and you made him a star, brilliant Gregory, kids are easy to manage"

"Save your words my dear." He pulled his husband closer for a kiss "In a while he will be seventeen and he will ask you the keys of your Bentley"

"Not going to happen."

"Hmmm…" Right then their daughter came running in, tugging on both their trousers.

"I want a star too."


	339. The remote is gone

5\. The remote is gone

This was the third night and Mycroft had decided enough is enough. He wants his boyfriend to spend time with him, to look at him the way he looks at that….that abominable screen. It's the UFA championships or UEFA or something, honestly he couldn't be bothered to care.

Yes, he accepted that Greg loved football, that he plays it, and that he supports it. He knows all of these, but giving up is partner and their quality time three nights in a row?

That is a sacrifice he was tired of making. Next year he will make sure he is somewhere in another country on business while Gregory make gooey eyes at the players, and yell at the coach and the ref…that he would have his own running commentary while watching, with his muscled legs on the table…those hands on the remote or snacks instead of him…no…this won't do.

He had a plan.

He sat down at the table in his evening gown typing away on his laptop as Greg got ready to watch the game, he would glance at Greg as he moved.

Greg stood in the middle of the living room looking around perplexed.

"Something wrong Gregory?" He asked, but apparently not as innocently as he thought because Greg turned around with a sceptical look.

"The remote is gone."

"Oh, isn't it in the usual place on the table?" Greg narrowed his eyes and slowly started walking towards Mycroft.

"No…and I get the feeling you know why?" Mycroft looked at Greg and knew his partner was too clever. He got up and walked towards Greg, slowly unbuttoning the belt on his gown as he opened it, he enjoyed the utter shock and lust that simultaneously on his face. Mycroft want wearing anything underneath except one of Greg's shirts with the remote sticking out on the breast pocket. He looked down.

"Oh there is the remote…wondered how it got there." Mycroft lowered his voice.

"Uh….yeah…uh…..My…"

"Sooooo while you're learning English all over again, I was thinking that tonight it's your choice football or me…and I'm very good with teaching English words…." Mycroft drawled out and stood in front of Greg.

Greg swallowed hard and took the remote of the shirt throwing it on the sofa without care before he launched himself at Mycroft.

Mycroft loves when his plan his fool proof.


	340. The mystery gift

6\. The mystery gift

Greg walked into Mycroft's office all happy and smiles.

"May I ask why you're so happy?" Mycroft asked as Greg walked over to greet him, before he greeted Anthea as well.

"We had our Secret Santa draw today and my gift this year is so easy." Mycroft and Anthea glanced at each other.

"Secret Santa?" Anthea finally asked.

"Yeah….wait you guys don't know what it is?"

They shook their heads.

"Its…well you put all your colleagues' names together or everyone who wants to participate then you draw a name, not your own and you have to buy him the mystery gift….you usually arranged beforehand on the budget, let's say 20 quid and no more."

"You can hardly buy anything for that price." Anthea said and pulled a face.

"Well…for the two of you and this place maybe…but it is actually the thought that counts, something small that we exchange around some snacks, a cake…" He trailed off when he saw their faces, sighing he sat down on the chair opposite Mycroft and next to Anthea.

"You know what…never mind…how's your day going?" He asked instead listening to them discussing their day and ordering tea for them.

Mycroft looked at Greg and saw that somehow Greg's mood seemed more down than when he came in, he tried to figure out if he did something wrong, but nothing come to mind. He shall have to talk to him when they are alone tonight.


	341. I hate Christmas

7\. I hate Christmas

Greg hated Christmas; it was too much, just way too much. The rush, the all of a sudden cheerfulness because "it's Christmas." Or the "I know I never speak to you during the year but hey it's Christmas" types. TV programs are the worst, all that needless drama about the surgeon stuck in the or due to some emergency, or the cop for the first time in his lift stuck at a bank robbery and trying to tell everyone "It's going to be okay, because its Christmas"

Oooh, let's not forget the wife that the whole year threaten to leave her husband because he is always at work (surgeon and cop again) and then whoops whaps she suddenly understands and feel sorry for him because its Christmas and the faerie lights and the tree make it all so magical and the little child dying smiled at her and told her some wise proverb (surgeon) or her husband just saved everyone from the bank robbery with minimum casualties. Strange how real life is different; his wife decided to skip the Christmas understanding and jumped right into starting the affair all over again.

"Gregory are you okay?" Greg looked up to see Mycroft looking at him with wide eyes and concern all over his face.

"Yeah…why?" He replied in a shorthand manner.

"Because you look like you are about to commit murder and your answer was pretty short." Greg sighed heavily and sat down on the chair.

"I hate Christmas. I really really hate it, more than any criminal I ever put away."

"That's quite a lot."

"Hmmm." Greg didn't bother to answer but he did wave his hand in the air.

"Gregory my dear, are you off on Christmas?"

"No, I prefer to work, less people, just paperwork and drunk people starting fights."

"Well, put in for leave, right now…we are going away, no Christmas spirit, just us and no people."

Greg's face lit up with that.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"No people…."

"No people, no civilisation for miles."

"Oh God, heaven….thank you."

_(Authors note: I kind of used my feelings here, I love the idea of Christmas, I hate what it has become)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was quite easy....:)


	342. Teams

8\. Teams

Greg eyed the two teams in front of him. He was in charge of a search and rescue just outside of London. A small girl and her dog went missing in the afternoon and the parents only found out when they got back from work at six. After calling around and then finally the police a rescue unit was send out.

Greg was in charge of both teams to split up and search the nearby woodland area. He turned to Sally.

"You will take Team B and go west, covering the ground here, here and here." He instructed as he showed her the map.

"Got it."

"I will take Team A and cover these grounds here; we can rendezvous around this point."

Folding the map he turned to the teams waiting for him, the dog unit was there as well.

"Okay people, listen up. We should be quick but thorough and effective, Sergeant Donovan will take Team B, Team A with me, let's go people."

They all split up and started going in their directions. Greg really hope they find the girl soon.

Mycroft found out about the search and went to the site to help, or just be there for Greg. He was the first to notice Greg walking out of the woods carrying a small yet alive and dirty little girl. His heart swelled with pride as he watched the parents and ambulance ran over to him. That's his partner.


	343. Next year

9\. Next year

Mycroft was snuggled into Greg's side, both watching a movie. Mycroft looked at the scenery and pointed towards the screen.

"We should go there."

"Where?" Greg asked a bit confused, he was too engrossed in the movie.

"To that place, we should go on holiday there." Greg paid a bit closer attention to the place and realised that yes, he would very much like to go there.

"Oh yes, the only problem is I don't have enough leave for the year and it won't help to go for a weekend."

"Next year, we take a few weeks and go there."

"Ooh yes maybe in April when it's cold here and we can go there when it is warm and lovely, we can swim…." Greg trailed off.

"You already planning this holiday aren't you?"

"Oh yes…"


	344. Sticky tape

10 sticky tape

Mycroft looked everywhere in the drawers but couldn't find the extra pad of self-adhesive notes that he use for notes around the kitchen. Ever since he and Greg had started dating and moving in together the notes would run out sooner. It started with Greg, if he had to work late, or got a call out in the morning, he would write a note for Mycroft. Some days he would just write little messages or draw him pictures, little stick men and cartoon pictures, but it would warm Mycroft's heart every time he walked into the kitchen and there was a new note. Yesterday there was two three notes in a little triangle, two stick men alone – one with an umbrella - each on in their own paper, the third one was with them together and the umbrella was shaped like a heart.

He looked around and then his fingers found something.

"Ahh yes…sticky tape…would work…" As he pulled it out, his eyes widen, it was sticky tape yes, but not the clear ones he was used to, no this one had lines and patterns of red glitter on it.

"Can only be Greg's." He stared at it, and then at the note he wrote for Greg. Shrugging he stuck the note to the freezer with the glitter tape. It stood out. Vividly.

When Greg came home he knew he was alone, as his routine he made his way to the kitchen to see if there was a note. Seeing the glitter tape he laughed out loud.

" **Will be home very late. Don't wait up."**

Underneath there was a second note.

" **Red glitter tape?"**

Greg took some paper and picked up the glitter tape. He quickly wrote before sticking it up.

When Mycroft came home just after one, there was a new note.

" _The red reminded me my passion for you. X0X0"_

Mycroft blushed red and rolled his eyes, only Gregory and he wouldn't want it any other way. Without eating he quickly grabbed the note and made his way upstairs snuggling in bed to the warm body already opening his arm for him.


	345. He didn't come

11\. He didn't come

Greg sighed as he looked back at his watch for the hundredth time in a matter of hours. He was supposed to have a meeting with one of his regular informants, and the man is late. If he knew the man wasn't going to show he wouldn't have cancelled his dinner plans with Mycroft.

It was getting more late with every glance at his watch. They arranged for the meeting to be at eight thirty and it was already quarter past nine. It didn't forebode anything good. Greg looked back at his watch for one last time before he made up his mind. Zipping up his jacket he made his way back out of the pub and down the street. It wasn't like Eco to miss an appointment but in these streets anything can happen. He walked halfway down the street to where the black car was waiting. Mycroft insisted on being close. Greg didn't even try to fight him anymore, if Mycroft wasn't going to be down the street he will have every camera on him, and most likely an agent or two nearby.

Mycroft knew from the moment Greg opened the door that something was wrong.

"Gregory?"

"He didn't come…I don't know, this is the first time Eco missed a meeting." Mycroft could see the worry and concern for his informant Eco may not be his real name but it wasn't difficult to find who he really is.

"Do you want me to find him?" Mycroft asked his phone already in his hand. Greg looked at Mycroft.

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, I hate asking…"

"You didn't. I offered. No let's go home and I can make a call."


	346. Socks

12\. Socks

Mycroft will always remember the first time Greg tried on the silk socks Mycroft bought him. He stared at it and then pulled his face as he had to put it on, complaining about how expensive they were, how his feet should feel lucky…and all that. That is until he put the socks on and let out a very loud and obscene sound that did things to Mycroft blood and heart pressure.

"These are amazing….My…oh look it is so soft…." It's like soft buttercream icing on those cupcakes we had last night." Mycroft frowned, he didn't think he would make that analogy but then again Greg was right, it was actually a good description.

"I'm glad you like it, if you want I can order a few pairs for you."

"Oh God yes." Greg was actually sitting down on the chair touching his feet and running his hands on the silk, frankly it was making Mycroft jealous.

"Hey I'm going to see if I can ski with these…." Mycroft's eyes widen.

"I didn't know you would be interested in skiing?"

"I didn't mean that ski…" Greg replied and with a wink got up and walked to the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Mycroft asked and to his surprise Greg started 'skiing' around the bathroom floor, it was quite impressive.

"Gregory please be careful." Mycroft chided but Greg was having too much fun.

"It's okay; I did this a lot when I was a kid."

"You're not a kid anymore; you're a 54 year old…."

Greg was having too much fun to be worried and that's when he took a turn and wasn't fast enough to catch his fall, he fell with loud bang and a yell. Mycroft run to the bathroom to find Greg on the floor laughing and the small dustbin bent over and rolling to the side, empty toilet paper rolls and several tissues all over the floor.

"Gregory!"

"I don't remember the fall hurting this much though….help me up." Mycroft reached down to help Greg up, which was quite difficult, even in this big bathroom.

"I am never buying you silk socks again…"

"Oh come on, I'll behave."

"No."


	347. Secrets

13\. Secrets

One thing Mycroft had learned over the years is that secrets never stay secret, somehow it always come out. It doesn't matter how hard you try to hide it, to keep it hidden from the world it will always come to light. Some within a week, others take years. Euros took decades but in the end it will come out, with a bang so to say.

He wasn't able to determine the after effects because in all certainty he didn't think he would survive the whole ordeal. The moment Sherlock confronted him and he saw that bomb in Baker Street he knew his hourglass of life was running out. He tried so hard to get Sherlock to shoot him, because to him, that was the only way out, the only way that everyone walks out relatively unharmed, except him of course.

When he did survive and Greg took him home he had to re-evaluate the entire experience, the fall out and the picking up of the pieces and move on.

Mycroft opened his eyes and his eyes fall on the soft tan skin in front of him. He was safe in Greg's arms, his head on his chest. Greg's skin was warm, slowly moving up and down with every breath. The soft grey hair vibrating with every breath. It was magical to Mycroft, he could stare at Greg and every part of his skin for hours.

"Relax and sleep My." Greg's sleepy voice whispered through the early morning. Mycroft never even realised that he woke up. Mycroft gripped Greg's chest a bit tighter and Greg responded by pulling him closer. He may not know what the future hold, but he will deal with it, he did know one thing for certain, and he will focus more on his relationship with Greg, instead of England and his brother. The government never held him like this, kept him safe like this, Sherlock never cared like this. Euros wouldn't even comprehend the emotional impact of this moment. He learned his lesson; he will never take this for granted again. From now on, it's him and Greg.


	348. Too much

14\. Too much

The lights were off; the moonlight was streaming in through the windows and open door. A few small candle lights were scattered all around the room, and patio. The two men were relaxed on the sofa swing, slightly swaying by Greg's legs that were hanging off.

"We should go in." Mycroft's voice was slow, relaxed and calm. Greg smiled at that, it is not often you get to hear him like that, and luckily Greg is the only one who does.

"Hmm…five more minutes." Greg replied, his breath tickling Mycroft's ear.

In response Mycroft snuggled in deeper against the warmth of Greg's chest. Greg shifted a bit and pulled him even closer. They don't get time for this often and when they do, they try to make it last for as long as possible.

In the distance you could hear a cricket but otherwise it was quiet. The stars were shining, at least the little bit you could see through London's air.

"I love Gregory, sometimes I think too much.." Mycroft whispered as he closed his eyes. Greg kissed the side of his head.

"There's no such thing as too much Love, only deeper, and you are my abyss."

"And you are mine."

Greg closed his eyes, all ideas about going in forgotten as they continue to lay there in the nights, holding one to one another.


	349. In the closet

15\. in the closet

Greg stared at Mycroft, trying his best to keep the smile of his face. He was still half naked and in bed while Mycroft was standing in his robe in front of the walk in closet. His hand was on his hip and his hip resting on his back leg.

"Everything okay Love?" Greg finally asked his face neutral, he knew exactly what Mycroft was thinking and what was happening but he pretended to know nothing.

"I have nothing to wear." The exasperated voice came out. Greg tilted his head a bit to look in the closet. Rows and rows of suits and shirts were hanging, all in colour coordination. The suits in one row, the shirts the other. There were three rows at the bottom with shoes. The wardrobe itself was filled with socks and behind the door was all the ties.

"Oh…good thing you have a cop here….I can see it is empty…shall we investigate." Mycroft spun around with a stare and pursed lips. Greg burst out laughing.

"Oh shush Love…just kidding."

"This is serious Gregory."

"No, it is not. It is a lunch and afternoon tea with my parents."

"Exactly….oh God…I should have had a suit made." Mycroft replied looking depressed. Greg couldn't stop himself from hugging him close.

"Oh Love…no…you are beyond perfect, even if you only wear a sheet. We talked about this, normal slacks, that deep bottle green button shirt and your jacket."

"Are you sure?"

"Hundred. Trust me on this okay."

"Okay. I trust you."

"Thank you; now since you got me out of bed, let's go have a shower."


	350. So hot...

 

16\. So hot...

The sight was something to be remembered…engraved even. Mycroft and Greg went on a long weekend away to one of the summer beaches in France. Greg was acting as if he was personally attached to the sun, laying on the beach with hardly any sunscreen. All smiles and warm brown skin basking in the rays.

Mycroft….not so much.

He insisted on a specific dermatologist approved sun screen of 70 spf or higher. Where Greg was on a towel spread out on the sand, Mycroft was on a beach recliner under the big umbrella.

Greg was having a huge glass of ice cold beer and Mycroft was sipping on a refreshing seltzer. It is good to stay hydrated in the sun you know.

"Aaaawww this is so the life…." Greg exclaimed and flexes his arms in the sun.

"Indeed." He agreed. He didn't, it was so hot…too hot for him, the sand was getting in everything, his hair was being uncooperative, but the view…the sight of Greg so happy, so carefree, smiling so broadly made up for it. Not to mention when they are back in their rooms and both had a shower and Greg would pull him close and that warm basked skin would warm him up and he would kiss that sun touched lips and smell the fresh ocean and then only Mycroft would agree. It was indeed the life.


	351. She didn't

17\. She didn't

Mycroft looked up to see Greg walking into his office, his shoulders a bit low. He was irritated.

"Good afternoon Gregory."

"Hi…" Greg replied and sagged down.

"What's wrong?"

"Why…don't people listen?" Greg asked with a long suffering sigh.

"Let me guess. Sergeant Donovan?"

"Again with a complete twat…does she have no taste in men? I mean look at me…I have excellent taste." Greg ended with a wink. Mycroft snorted and shook his head.

"Of course you do." He conceded, some days he was not so sure what Greg sees in him, but whatever it was, he was glad.

"See…so I should be able to help her on the right track?" Greg answered leaning forward on the chair, resting his head on his arms on the table. Mycroft leaned closer as well. Greg grinned at him.

"She didn't listen?"

"Nope…I tell you, that whatshisface is going to hurt her, just like Anderson."

"I'm sorry Gregory, sometimes people just have to learn the hard way."

"Yeah true…so…anyway…ready to go home? I'm thinking we should have some steak tonight."

"What an excellent idea."

"See…you listen to great advice…"

"Maybe we should have fish?" Mycroft asked the mischief in his eyes.

"In your dreams."


	352. Until midnight

18\. until midnight

Greg run the soapy sponge all along the white marble skin, dappled with a tight cluster of freckles over the shoulders and neck, slowly spacing out towards the lower back. He tried to wash every freckle and every piece of white skin with the sponge. The small hair at the back of the neck were wet and curling up. Greg grinned at that and leaned forward placing a soft kiss underneath.

Mycroft let out a long sigh and clenched his hand around Greg's ankle.

"Love that?"

"Yes…I love it all."

Smiling Greg continue to wash Mycroft's back and then slowly rinsing the soap off with the warm water. Soft twirls of steam raised up making Mycroft's hair even more moist and curly.

Greg couldn't help but to run his fingers through it.

"I love these curls."

"I know, you always go on about them."

"Their marvellous, just like you."

Mycroft twisted in the bath where he sat between Greg's legs so he can look at him.

"You've awaken me, and I don't think I can ever live or sleep without you in my life." Mycroft said softly, afraid to break the tranquil atmosphere between them.

"I love you too." Greg whispered back leaning forward to kiss him.

"We should get out." He said when they parted.

"Just a while longer." Mycroft pleaded.

"It's already close to midnight."

"Until midnight then."

"Okay, the perfect ending to a perfect day."


	353. The tree

19\. The tree

Mycroft was waiting at the gate to the park. Greg insisted they meet here for lunch. Apparently it was 'a surprise'. Mycroft had no idea what to make of that, but here he was.

As he turned around the silver car came to a stop close by and Greg was smiling widely. He quickly got out of the car and popped the boot open. To Mycroft's surprise he took out a small blanket and a picnic basket.

"Hi Love."

"Good afternoon Gregory, what have you planned?"

"Nope…just have to wait and see. Come on."

Greg took Mycroft's other hand and led him through the park. They have only been here once, many years ago, when they just met. Neither knew then how different their lives would get, he most certainly never imagined that the married Inspector would one day be his. It was a good change.

"Here we are."

They came to a stop next to a clearing Greg let go of Mycroft's hand and set the blanket on the ground. This has special meaning, Greg chose this specifically and it was up to Mycroft to figure out why, he looked around and his eye caught a small tree, still young compared to the rest. His eyes widen in realization.

It was one of the first cases Sherlock helped Greg, the man was found close by and when Sherlock solved the case and walked away, Greg and Mycroft was left to sort out the rest, Greg assuring Mycroft that he would look after Sherlock and Mycroft telling Greg that Sherlock can be difficult. Greg picked up one of those seed pods that had fallen out of the tree on to the ground.

"Tell you what, this seeds has little to no chance of growing, if it does, Sherlock will be okay, and surprise as all."

"You're bargaining my brothers' character development on seeds?"

"No. I'm taking a leap of faith, and so should you."

Mycroft smiled at the memory, the seeds have developed, and so did his brother. He looked to the ground to see two champagne glasses and a bottle. He looked back at Greg who was smiling widely.

"Should we celebrate to his character development?"

"Mycroft took a glass and sat down pulling Greg close.

"No…to a leap of faith."


	354. He is sober

  

20\. He is sober

Mycroft and Sherlock stared at each other in confusion before turning back to look at Greg. Greg on the other hand was standing straight up, his body tensed and his eyes staring ahead and unfocused.

"Is he drunk?" Mycroft finally asked, he has seen Greg drunk before, but he never stood like that, or acted like this when drunk.

"No." Sherlock replied. "He is sober, besides he is a friendly drunk, not….stoic…"

"High?" Mycroft wanted to know instead.

"No, unless it something I never encountered." Sherlock stated. Mycroft turned to Sherlock.

"That is unlikely."

"True." Sherlock shrugged in return. Mycroft turned back to Greg and that's when he took a breath and walked towards him.

"Gregory dear…" He asked softly, his hand softly on Greg's cheek.

Greg blinked rapidly and then his eyes found Mycroft's.

"My…."

"Yes, please tell me what's wrong."

"My…" Greg repeated and then slowly leaned forward into Mycroft's chest.

Mycroft was scared and he had no idea how to help him.


	355. Too many people

21\. Too many people

There are too many people in that conference room…too many people staring at one man... and that man is _his man_ …

Mycroft would never have said before that he could be a jealous man, but that was before Gregory entered in his life, his home, his heart...

He always thought jealousy were a 'common' feeling, something he was above, that was then, and now is something entirely different.

Now he finds himself sat on a comfortable chair in the 'Waldorf Hilton Business Centre' listening at Detective Inspector Lestrade, representing the NSY at the Interpol Crime Convention.

It's not the first time, a blink here, a gaze on the tube there...and Mycroft has to recognize Gregory wears his fifties wonderfully... oh the speech has ended and the Detective Inspector is walking back to his seat. Close to Mycroft's. Greg's speech was the last before an hour lunch was scheduled.

Mycroft watched Greg walking back when suddenly a lady in red, about thirty-five unmarried, stops the DI pretending to talk about the increasing of crimes in the suburban areas...that's enough...in less than ten seconds a familiar figure appeared behind the lady in red and Greg couldn't hide his smile while Mycroft came to his rescue giving the lady his death stare. Greg knows he doesn't need any protection, not in this situation but seeing Mycroft's jealousy increasing every day it' s a sort of conquer and knowing to be so important for him is something he cannot do without, and wouldn't even try.


	356. Online

 

22\. Online

The shock and adrenalin rushed side by side through Mycroft's veins, it didn't stop to breathe, it didn't stop to take stock, and it rushed to every part of his body. The effect was double-sided, one part of his body shut down in numbness, the other part wanted to jump up and ran, it didn't matter to where, it just wanted to move, to do something.

He was in his office working like normal, a good day, just doing what he did on a normal day to day basis when the laptop and his phone beeped at once. He froze with his pen in mid-air as he recognised the sound. It was a specific sound, one he allocated specifically to one person and one person only: Gregory. Sherlock had his, John had his. It was a sound to alert him of trouble. In less than thirty seconds the pen was down on the table and he was typing on his computer while the phone was next to his hands open on the alert. To Mycroft it felt like thirty hours. The alert was in bold letter on his phone screen.

" **GL offline"**

Gregory Lestrade went offline, off-grid, of the radar of everything that he, Mycroft had in place to know where Greg was. Greg at first didn't like it, but relented when Mycroft promised it would only be used in extreme emergencies. Greg even helped with the set-up to let Mycroft know exactly what counted as an emergency, everything else he was online.

This wasn't good. Mycroft traced his gps through the radar and the CCTV cameras. Greg went offline near the coastal side of the very east side of the London map, close to the river.

In less than twenty minutes he and his team were on their way to the location. He didn't know what to expect, but his mind was working overtime with worse case scenarios.

"Oh Gregory, please be okay."


	357. You wouldn't believe it

 

23\. You won't believe it

Mycroft watched as Greg came walking in through the door with a frown and staring down on his phone. Whatever it was causing annoyance for Greg which means it was his brother.

"What did Sherlock do now?"

Greg looked up the frown deepening on his forehead.  
"Huh?"

"My brother, I can only assume he did something to cause that annoying look on your face."

Greg broke out in a smile.

"Actually our loving prat is innocent." Mycroft smile at the way Greg use so much love and caring in the word prat.  
"Then what caused it?"

"These flippen ads and clickbait…when you see why she put an onion in her sock you won't believe it…or this person did this and you will rush home to do the same….blah blah it is so annoying."

Mycroft sighed….

"My dearest, give your phone here, I can let my men take all the ads off and you never have to worry about it."

Greg eyed Mycroft.

"And the secret tracking?"

"Don't be absurd….that was added a long time ago."


	358. #lessonlearnt

24\. #lessonlearnt

Greg was angry and frustrated, more than that, he was disappointed. Very disappointed.

"That's what you get for trying to do good." He uttered to himself. The glass of beer was nearly empty, his third. He eyed his phone to see if anyone has tried to contact him. No one has.

"Unbelievable."

He was trying to be the peacemaker, the negotiator between the Homes siblings and the Holmes parents and it back fired, spectacularly. He and Sherlock ended up in a fight, then he and Mycroft and it ended with a loud door bang. Greg made his way to the nearest pub and ordered his first beer.

He cared for them, he really did and he hated seeing them all fight and he hated seeing Mycroft taking the blame for everything that had happened. He tried to help his partner and apparently that was a big mistake.

He finished his third beer and ordered another one. Well if his day had one all over term for the world that would be #lessonlearnt. Don't try to help, and keep out of the Holmes's way…which is difficult, since he was in a relationship with one.


	359. Bless you

 

Bless you

Greg was sitting in the car, his phone open and reading an article. Mycroft was on the phone speaking to someone on the other side of the world in some language Greg wasn't even going to pretend to know. They were on their way home and Mycroft was handling the last case of the day. Greg had learned to keep himself busy on days like this and found a wonderful trivia app that could keep him entertained.

"That should take care of that, I apologise for the interruption Gregory."

"It's fine Love. I was keeping myself busy, found this wonderful article on why people say 'bless you' after you sneeze

Mycroft looked at Greg with interest.

"And why do we say it."

Well, there's quite a few theories and legends but one of them is that the ancient Egyptians believed that when you sneeze your soul leaves your body and they had to bless you in order to keep evil spirits away."

"That would explain the Prime Minister. She sneezed and there was no one around to bless her." Mycroft replied neutrally causing Greg to burst out laughing.

"Aaah... So that explains it...we should organise an exorcist."

"Probably, but I wouldn't hold my breath."


	360. Naughty

  

Naughty

Greg watches the interaction with interest. It is not usual that Mycroft and Sherlock were having a decent conversation without snide or rivalry.   
Maybe it was the Christmas spirit....then again he bets it is because Rosie is in the room and Sherlock promised John that he would try to be nice.  
Greg just hopes it last.   
As if the universe heard him Rosie run from the room to the kitchen were John was opening a tin, from the garbled and giggling he suspects it is the sweets tin.   
As if the universe heard him Rosie and John started to talk about Santa and that she can only have one sweet otherwise she won't eat her dinner and then Santa won't bring her presents as she was naughty.   
Sherlock turned to Mycroft.  
"Hope you've abstained from sweets, we don't want you to skip dinner and get on the naughty list."  
Greg jumped in before Mycroft could answer.  
"Oh too late Sherlock, Mycroft and I have been on the naughty list since January and it isn't for skipping dinner."  
Mycroft's blush was instantaneous and Sherlock was staring at Greg as if he grew another head.   
Oblivious John came back in  
"What did I miss?"


	361. The day after

The day after

Greg woke up with a long groan as his limbs stretched in every possible direction.

"Slept well?" The dry tone of Mycroft came from his left side. Greg turned to see Mycroft sitting upright with his waistcoat half undone, dark circles under his eyes and the little curl on his forehead was succeeding in breaking free from the hair product.

"Did you even slept?" Greg finally asks as he shifted to sit next to Mycroft.

"No. I did spend some time in my mind."

"I'm sorry you didn't get some sleep."

"Its okay, I'm usually able to sleep anywhere but this is just not my cup of tea...speaking of which, that would be welcome right about now."

"I feel you. Then again I didn't really plan on spending the day after our engagement locked in a cell."

"Yes well...this is most inconvenient."

"Tell me about it how were we supposed to know that picking up that weird flower was illegal in this country?"

"Its a very symbolic and historic flower."

"Why didn't you tell me I would've picked another flower for you."

"I didn't know it was that flower, it was too dark."

"Yeah sure...you didn't know either."

Mycroft glared at Greg who smiled back before interlacing their hands.

"So who will bail us out?"

"Anthea will surely be here in an hour or less with it all sorted."

"Starting our engagement in a cell...how romantic," Greg said with a small smile. Mycroft smiled back and gave Greg a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Sherlock would be impressed."


	362. Water

Water

Greg didn't need a Holmes brain to preserve the scene in front of him. Never. It was a charity race and Mycroft decided to run it. He was supporting a cause close to his heart and since it was on the outskirts of London he would blend in perfectly. Greg would wait at the finish line with the towel and water bottle.

That is until Sherlock spotted Greg and made his way over. Turns out he and John were on a case until they saw him.

Sherlock made the necessary comments about Greg and his life and John tried to keep the curiosity out of his face.

It all came to a climax as Greg saw something and ignored Sherlock to yell and cheer someone. Sherlock and John turned to see and that's when they noticed Mycroft came running to the finish line, the best was that he was in the lead. They watched as he crosses the finish line with a loud cheer straight into Greg's open arms.

"Congrats Love, you were magnificent!" Mycroft was too out of breath to reply but he was smiling ear to ear and nearly finished the bottle of water in one go.

When Greg turned back to Sherlock they were staring at him and John looked flabbergasted to see Mycroft in something that wasn't a suit...his outfit was showing a lot more than a suit...his long legs...the muscles defined in his leg...the slim torso...Greg loved it.

When Mycroft finally turned to his brother and John he smiled.

"Good day Sherlock, John been here long?"

He had to wait several minutes for a reply.


	363. Puzzle pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three...

 

29\. Puzzle pieces   
Mycroft was looking forward to tonight. It was their second year anniversary and ever since their first Greg has given Mycroft a single puzzle piece like clockwork. Mycroft gave him a strange look the first time and Greg replied "trust me" and that was the end of it. He would trust him.   
And he would wait.  
The puzzle wasn't revealing much except that it was all in colour with some red in the centre. Not also looked like there was writing but he couldn't see it. He had a feeling he will get that piece last.   
Mycroft turned his head when he heard the door open and Greg stepped in.  
"Hi Love"  
"Good evening my dearest. How was your day?"   
"Not so bad. You?"  
"Pleasantly okay."  
"Good, give me five minutes and I'll join you outside."  
They planned to have a night in. Just them...wine...food....stars and their home.  
"I'll pour some wine."  
"Thanks....oh and get all your puzzle pieces too."   
Mycroft frowned but as he made his way outside he took his near complete puzzle outside.

A few minutes later Greg joined him and Mycroft could see that Greg was a bit nervous. He frowned but Greg waved it away and held out his hand. It contained the last piece but it was covered with some black plastic lid or something. He took it from Greg.   
"Open it after you put it with the others."  
Mycroft wordlessly took it his curiosity in overdrive but he refrained from saying anything. He put the piece with the others and then with one last glance he turned back to Greg and opened it. He froze and his brain stopped as it processed the scene. It was a red heart and in the middle was the words. Words he never ever thought would be directed at him. Words that will simultaneously make him, break him and put him back together.  
"You will always have my heart, please do me the honour of having my ring too."  
Greg proposed and he planned it for more than a year!  
When his limbs finally caught up to his brain n he looked at Greg who was holding out a ring. Mycroft opened his mouth to speak but not a word came out. His eyes filled with silent tears and he could only nod as he went into his home, Greg's arms. 


	364. Feint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two.......

  
Mycroft was sitting in Greg's office waiting for him to come back from his meeting with the Superintendent before they leave on holiday.   
Both of them was in desperate need of a break and have decided on a few days leave. Four days in the country will give both of them the perfect opportunity to recharge, unwind and just spend some time together.  
He could hear Greg's laughter from outside and stood up. The door opened and Greg and the Sup made their way towards him.   
"Ah, Mr.Holmes. Good to see you again."  
The man greeted Mycroft with a wide smile and outstretched hand. Mycroft put on his best political smile and shook his hand.  
"Superintendent, you share my thoughts."  
After getting the pleasantries out of the way and the goodbyes Mycroft nearly dragged Greg out of there ready to have Greg for himself. Greg just went along feeling happy and very loved.  
Once I side the car he turned to his partner.  
"I've thoroughly enjoyed your little feint back there."  
"Yes well... I had no choice but to have an ulterior motive, I need to soften him up for the future and being an alley even pretend one will get you and me far."  
Greg leaned over to kiss Mycroft.   
"I love you and your brilliant sometimes scary mind."  
Mycroft lips turned upwards at the fondness with how Greg said the words.   
"I love you too."


	365. 3...2...1...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One!!!!
> 
> Thank you for everyone who read and commented! I appreciate it and wouldn't have done a second year.

 

3,2,1,

The emotions were running high and I looked over Mycroft's shoulder to see that even Sherlock was affected. He was looking between Mycroft and me, his eyes a dark stormy cloud as it betrayed his feelings. I need to look away before I start crying, I looked back to Mycroft and knew this is it, the moment we've both been looking forward too, the moment that we once thought would never happen. I knew Mycroft that this would never happen to him, he is the ice-man, the cold and distant one, miracles like this doesn't happen to someone like him, but it is...

I myself thought that after the last one I would never put myself into something like this, yet here I am more confident and sure of the moment than ever.

Almost...

Three...

This is it! It's happening! This is it! Finally...yes...don't cry...don't cry...oh God I'm choking on this massive lump in my throat...breathe...breathe Greg...

Two...

Don't look at Mycroft, you will definitely cry then. No. Look at him. He is the only thing keeping you together...oh God his eyes are filling with tears... I love him. So much.

One...

For the first time since I woke up this morning, my nervousness fell away and complete calmness fill me as I hear his smooth voice over my gravelly one loud and clear.

"I do."


End file.
